<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Blackwood by KallMeKMK</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414555">Blackwood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KallMeKMK/pseuds/KallMeKMK'>KallMeKMK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Hockey RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Lemons, Mackenzie Blackwoodxofc, Major Original Character(s), NHL RPF, New Jersey Devils, POV Original Character, RPF, hockey rpf - Freeform, mackenzie blackwood - Freeform, plus sized</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:21:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KallMeKMK/pseuds/KallMeKMK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Luci Smith moves into her very own condo in an exclusive building she discovers her very cute neighbor is only 22 and he’s a New Jersey Devil. Particularly, New Jersey’s own savior between the posts, MacKenzie Blackwood. He’s big, he’s thicc, and for some reason, he’s digging his older chubby neighbor as much as she’s diggin’ him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>MACKENZIE BLACKWOOD/OFC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blackwood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is over 46K+ words that was originally an 11 part disaster on Tumblr. It's still a disaster, it's still over 46K words, but it's here all together for cohesive reading. There are lemons, there's smut, you probably shouldn't read it at work. Or do. I don't know your life.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>PART 1</p><p>
  <span>“WHOA, Easy there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My butt smashed into something ridiculously solid as I spun around to push the door open with my generous backside, arms full of a huge box labeled “linens.” “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Big hands closed over my shoulders to steady me before the box was plucked out of my hands by a literal giant. “It’s my fault I was rushing to get the door open for you, but I should have just taken the box in the first place,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pulled open the door of my new swanky condo building and gestured the big man in. He just wrapped one long arm around the massive box and held the door with the other hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The desk where the doorman usually sat was empty, it must be his break. The silence stretched uncomfortably as I slapped the “up” button on the elevator. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat, “So are you, ya know, moving in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye I smirked, “Nah, I just like robbing moving trucks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” He looked visibly uncomfortable and shifted the box in his large hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes, “I’m kidding. Calm down Andre.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Andre?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh yeah.. Like Andre the Giant?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man gave a chuckle and it was deep. “Right, I guess I’m bigger than you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Again he waited for me to precede him. Once we were both in the elevator I punched my floor, “My dude, you are bigger than most people, what floor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shifted the box to one hand, “Oh you got it, same floor as you I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can put the box down you know I can get it from here,” I said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just gave a cocky grin, balanced the box in his massive palm and held it out. The sight almost made me swallow my tongue. I hadn’t really paid attention before but he was young, but grey joggers clung to thighs that dwarfed my own and I couldn’t remember a time THAT happened. A tight black t shirt stretched across his ridiculously wide chest and arms of the shirt were practically cutting his biceps in half. His face was covered with strawberry blonde stubble and I wanted him to rub his face all over my body, like a cat. “Oh you can probably carry that all day.” My voice sounded high and strange and I was suddenly very aware I was wearing the grey yoga pants that were too short and not flattering. My mom said “You should really buy your clothes bigger Luci, you can see all your fat if you don’t.” And the ratty sports bra that had long ago stopped being any kind of supportive for the gym, but was comfortable, and the tank top that was threadbare and clinging to the rolls hanging out the bottom of said bra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doors of the elevator closed and I was locked in a box with a literal Roman statue with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I smelled like I was moving my entire life in July on the humid Eastern Seaboard. He probably smelled wonderful if I could smell him over my own BO. It was wholly unfair. I wondered what god I had upset today. He cleared his throat and I swore the deep rumble made the elevator shake, “So uh you seem a little young to live in a building like this, ya know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My laugh came out dry and humorless, “I’m 27. I’ve been with the same company for 5 years and I just completed my MBA.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened, “Oh sorry, you look a lot younger than that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t really know how to take that considering he looked even younger, “Um thanks. You don’t look old enough to own or rent in this building either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hip kept the box propped against the wall, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, “Um yeah. Old enough I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I arched my eyebrows at that bullshit answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m 22.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Twenty-Two? Two Twos?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have like a trust fund? I have the smallest place in the building and a good job and it’s still half my take home. You know what? That is super rude. I’m just going to shut up. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, It’s fine, I mean I am young, ya know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The conversation lulled again and the elevator seemed to take forever to get to the 10th floor. I tried to slyly study him out of the corner of my eye. Characters in books always did it, but it was difficult and I must have ended up just looking like I had a weird lazy eye. The large man/boy wasn’t even trying to be sly about his gaze, he was just brazenly studying me, hip still cocked to keep the box wedged against the side of the elevator. “Is your eye ok? Do you have something in it?” He put his giant bear paw of a hand on my shoulder and went to turn my body. Which was impressive since I was standing against the other wall. God his arms were long and corded with muscle, and his wrists were as thick as my cankles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No no. I’m fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence  stretched uncomfortably again before the familiar rumble of him clearing his throat rattled the elevator again, “So um is Andre your boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A barking laugh cleared my lips before I smacked a hand over my mouth and covered it with a cough. “Andre the Giant?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really are 22. Wow. You are so big and..” you gestured at his body, “that. Part of me thought you might be lying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would I lie about that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. When I was 22 guys didn’t look like you. Hell guys don’t look like you at 27.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, what I look like?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know… dorito shaped like Captain America.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what that means.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, don’t get out much do ya? One day I’m going to make you watch the Princess Bride.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never heard of it and I don’t think Captain America is in it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s because it was made about 10 years before you were born and he’s not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t sound like my kind of movie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s pirates.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator finally dinged open to the 10th floor, “Jesus Christ I thought it was being cranked by actual human beings this thing is so slow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can think of worse people to get stuck in an elevator with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My heart gave an involuntary jump at his statement and I resisted the urge to grab my boob to make sure it wasn’t leaping out of my chest. Instead I motioned to the box, “I can take that now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His grin was a little less cocky than before, “Nah, I got it. Where to?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’m just…” I motioned down the hall to the left and set off toward my tiny studio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m down this way too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was supremely irritated that one of his long lazy strides basically made three of my hurried power walking ones. “Really? When I toured this place the agent said the only thing on this floor was my tiny apartment and 3 bedrooms.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I have one of the big apartments.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Probably a trust fund kid. He was being so nice, but he was ridiculously hot and *obviously* loaded, I kind of hated him on principle. Probably didn’t even work. I hoped my place was nowhere near his because he most likely threw huge ragers all the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My studio condo unit was the result of poor planning and outdated blue prints. When the building had been gutted to turn it into condos this was the first floor with the 3 bedroom floor plan and someone had fudged on calculations leaving a spare 500 sq feet unaccounted for with the two largest three bedroom floor plans on either side of the hallway.  The builders turned it into a one-off studio instead of absorbing it into either existing floor plan figuring whoever bought one of those units would buy this one as well and knock down the wall. Therefore, making it not their problem and definitely earning the renovator more money.  It was the only way I could afford a place in a building this nice. Thus, I was also the only person with my front door right next to my neighbor’s. My entire living space shared a common wall with the living room of the condo next door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I stopped in front of my door at the end of the hall, “This is me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well this is convenient.” He held the box on his hip and gestured to the door next to mine, and all my worst nightmares came true, “Cause this is me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you fucking kidding?” I was pissed I was going to have to live in close proximity to someone who was this hot and probably an entitled trust fund prick and for some reason that really rankled me. My displeasure must have shown on my face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a step back and eyed me warily, his voice hesitant, “No?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fucking figures. Look guy, I don’t care how you afford that giant apartment but if you throw stupid big parties for all your rich friends I will call the cops on your ass. I work hard for a living so I can afford the smallest floor plan in this building.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, I’m not a party guy. I go to work just like you, ya know, and when I have time off I like to go back home and fish.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned away from him to pull the keys out of my bra hoping he wouldn’t notice, but his shit eating grin when I turned back around told me he definitely noticed. I shoved the key in the lock more forcefully than needed and opened the door holding my arms out for the box.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just shifted the box to his left hand and grabbed my right one, “Hi, I’m MacKenzie, my friends call me Mac, I’m your neighbor and I promise to be quiet by 10pm every night.” He gave my hand a pump, but he didn’t let go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” I bit my lip and my eyebrows fused as one while I thought. Big, blonde, rich, huuuuge thighs. Figures only visible to me swirled around my head like a meme.  Finally, the lightbulb went on and I tried to drop his hand like a hot potato, but he held on,  “MACKENZIE BLACKWOOD?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All 6’5” 225lbs of Canadian country boy looked uncomfortable. “Um yeah, so I take it you’re a fan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, yeah. My company has a box and occasionally some of the fancy pants execs can’t go so I get tickets last minute.” I kept trying to shake his hand off but it was useless. “Can I have my hand back?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, manners dictates that I shook your hand and introduced myself and you should do the same.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right ok. I’m Lucille Smith, people call me Luci, I was named after my grandmother. I live here and now I’m gonna go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally dropped my hand and motioned me into my studio. “I can just put this down where you need it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave a defeated sigh. I doubted the shy boy who turned tomato red in post game interviews would try and rape me in my new condo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The space was empty and I set my keys on the kitchen counter that was conveniently 2 feet away from the front door. My unit was on the corner of the building so two walls were giant windows looking out onto the less than stellar Jersey skyline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac cleared his throat again, “Um, where is your stuff?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should really get a cough drop for that tickle in your throat, and it’s all on the moving truck which is delayed because it broke down or something. The company said it would just be easier to fix it and deliver my stuff tomorrow than to unload it and put it in a different truck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made a face, “That sounds like bullshit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly tired I leaned against the kitchen counter, “It does sound like bullshit, you can just put that box wherever.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He set the box down, “Do you have anything else in your car?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave another heavy sigh, “No I honestly thought the truck would be like 15 minutes behind me. I’ll just run to Target and get some necessities I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stepping closer he put a hand on my shoulder and I had a moment to register his palm covered the entire joint. “When was the last time you ate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged, “I don’t know breakfast maybe? I think I had a muffin with my coffee, but the moving guys arrived to load up all my stuff and I don’t remember if I ate it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand slid down my arm leaving a trail of Fourth of July fireworks in its wake before he slipped his arm through mine like Victorian gentleman, “Come on. Let’s get some food in you and then we can go to Target to get what you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Biting my bottom lip I nodded. I wanted to pull my arm away because giant star NHL goalies didn’t touch older fat women like this, but I decided to indulge and the feeling of guilt immediately settled in the back of my mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snatched my boob sweat covered keys off the counter, handing them to me and pulled me through the door waiting while I locked it. “Do you have a purse or whatever?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh yeah, I left it in my car. I couldn’t carry it and the box.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s in your parking spot in the garage right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pulled my arm from his and gave myself some space so could think clearly, touching him scrambled my brain cells, “Yeah of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac smacked the down arrow when we got to the world’s slowest elevator and I stood awkwardly swirling my keys around my index finger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know I can get something to eat by myself and stuff. I’m a big girl.” Emphasis on the big. I didn’t want to eat food in front of a dude shaped like Captain America.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tips of his ears turned an alarming shade of red, “Well I’m sure, but it’s not the neighborly thing to do, eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh he sounded so cute and Canadian, “Neighborly, right. But I’m sure you have something to do, you’re probably a busy guy. Training camp or whatever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled, it was big and genuine and I felt my heart melt into drippy sticky goo that melted right out the bottoms of my feet, “Nah. No training camp yet, I got my workout in already. Just got back from Ontario, so I’m surprisingly free this afternoon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Really for how much I was paying for a mere 500 feet of living space the elevator in this building should be faster. If it didn’t arrive soon I was going to swing from this poor boy’s neck like he was set of monkey bars on the playground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac clasped his hands in front of him and rocked back on his heels as the conversation lulled again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I tried to fill the silence and slapped the “down” button a few more times for good measure, “So um… how long have you lived in the building? I imagine you spent most of your time in Comfort Inn or something last year.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just about a month or so… It’s nice, having my own place. My mom came down and basically bought out Ikea. I think she liked doing that.” A soft grin flickered across his face when he talked about his mom and I felt a part of me that had been resistant melt into a gooey sweet pile of attraction. Oh this was bad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s nice. You must keep a pretty low profile or my real estate agent would have definitely used the fact a hockey player would be my neighbor as a selling feature.” The elevator finally arrived and 400 years later the doors opened with a ding and my verbal diarrhea continued, “If it wasn’t a billion degrees with a trillion percent humidity I’d probably just take the stairs. Probably safer…” The metal box lurched downward at the approximate speed of an 89 year old man driving to church on Sunday. “… and faster.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned against the back corner, “Eh, no one really knows who I am I guess?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I tried to lean in the other corner and look nonchalant, “I figured it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True.. Are you ok? Did you hurt your back or something carrying that box?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I straightened up, “No, I’m fine.” So much for looking nonchalant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the 40 hour elevator ride was spent making small talk and no surprise Mac was a fan of country music. When the elevator finally arrived in the lobby, Mac made the gesture to hold the doors open and we both waved to the doorman, Gerald, as we made our way into the hot Jersey afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only negative about the building was the garage was housed under what used to be an office building next door and the climate controlled passageway wasn’t completed yet. It was the reason why I had to drag that giant box through the front door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The depths of the parking garage was a good 15 degrees cooler than the sun soaked sidewalk and I relished the idea of sliding into my car and turning the AC up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As I stopped in front of the super adorable blue Mini Cooper convertible I sensed a flaw in my fantasy. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac stopped behind me, “Is this your car?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um yes. Her name is Edna and she is sensitive about her size.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bark of laughter escaped the giant, “Well then we will have to take mine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I bit my bottom lip trying not to smile, “I could put the top down? Endless head room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And a bug to the eye? No thanks. Grab your purse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I beeped open the locks on Edna and grabbed the purse that was really more like a giant beach tote and locked it again, “Ok where’s your’s?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The black SUV next to mine beeped open, “Oh well I guess that makes sense since our apartments are next to each other.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just um let me…” He opened the passenger door and threw a bunch of clothes and empty bottles into the back seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I arched a brow in amusement, “I’ve known you personally for about five minutes but I didn’t take you for a messy car guy. You seem the opposite actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tips of his ears reddened and the blotch spread across his face, “Well I mean, I’ve been busy and stuff ya know? Training and out of town and stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I smirked, “Sure sure, excuses Blackwood.” Patting his shoulder I slid into the leather seat that was now clear of debris as he held the door open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gently shut the door and skirted the front of the SUV before climbing in the driver’s seat, “So why the moving truck? You couldn’t fit all your stuff in that giant suitcase you’re calling a purse?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My jaw dropped as I realized MacKenzie Blackwood had just *chirped* me.  “It fits all my stuff, and then some. I never remember those reusable shopping bags. Except this time I think I have one!” I dug around in the bottom of what I called my Mary Poppins bag as Mac backed out of his parking spot and headed toward the light of the exit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We were well on our way to Target before I pulled the little folded bag out; victorious,“SEE!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just chuckled and shook his head pushing the button for the radio. No surprise a classic rock station was programmed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So why did you name your car Edna?” He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other rested on the center console. I just knew he was the kind of guy that would want to hold hands while he was driving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m named after my maternal grandmother, Lucille. She died when I was about 15 but we were very close. My paternal grandmother was irked no one was named after her. She helped me buy that car when I graduated college. Everyone wanted me to get some sensible sedan,  but she said I should get something that was fun to drive. So I got the blue convertible and I named it Edna. She thinks it’s hilarious. She can’t drive anymore though, whenever it’s acceptable convertible weather I try and pick her up and take her for a drive.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a soft smile, “I like that. I’m a little sad I’ll probably never get a chance to ride in Edna.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My cousin is close to 6’4” and he can squeeze in. I bet you can too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was remarkably easy to hang out with the young goalie. He was entertaining, easy to talk to and the conversation flowed naturally. Almost the complete opposite of every post game interview I had ever seen him do where he was polite, but nervous and vague and the diction was peppered with “ya knows.” You noticed he only did it when he was nervous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon entering the big box store I grabbed an arm basket and Mac rolled his eyes and snagged an actual cart. I blinked at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been to Target with my mom, I know you’re going to fill that in 2 seconds and then ask me to get a cart.” He set off down the first aisle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>True to form, my hand basket was filled before I was even out of the clothes area having grabbed clothes for a couple of days (just in case), including the more flattering outfit I now wore instead of the ratty old gym clothes that made me feel like a self conscious Humpback Whale. The tags were sitting on top of the rest of the clothes so I didn’t forget to pay for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time we had made it around the store, the cart was full and Mac had a knowing smirk on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look awfully pleased with yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His massive shoulders just shrugged, “I was right, and I know you’re not going to be able to get everything in that little foldable bag and that purse, even though it’s huge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crossing my arms I let out a “hmmph,” irritated that he was definitely correct.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the checker rang stuff up I shoved as much of it into my giant tote as possible and then started filling the reusable bag. More than half was still on the conveyor when I was done and the total flashed on the screen. When shopping at Target I preferred not to look at the total and just pretend it was what I expected to pay. However, my wallet was now at the bottom of my bag which was filled with random shit. Some of which I needed and most of which was a total impulse purchase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit, give me a second.” I frantically dug in the bottom of my bag  as the cashier gave me a bored look. This was the height of mortification. This was worse than being an elevator with a professional hockey player looking like a fat homeless person. This was grandstand humiliation as the people in line started to grumble. My hand closed around my wallet at the precise moment the card reader beeped and Mac pulled his card out of the machine and started loading all of my stuff into the cart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That little shit, “Hey!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac didn’t even pause, looking a little hurried, “Can you yell at me in the car?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A surreptitious look around revealed several women looking at Mac like he was a Starbucks Frappuccino and bored husbands wondering why he looked familiar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A public fight with your hockey player neighbor was probably best done in the car, “Yeah. I think I can hold it in for exactly 90 seconds.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was already buckled into the passenger seat when Mac slid in and shut the door of the SUV.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t cool dude.” I folded my hands in my lap, overflowing tote bag at my feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It seems to me, that if I can drop $400 on a girl I met in an elevator an hour ago to prevent her from having a mental breakdown in the middle of Target, that is well within my right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to argue but what came out was “Wait $400? Did I buy a fucking TV? Jesus.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac held the receipt that was about a mile long out at me, “You can go through this later. Do you want to grab some food?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah I think I’m ready to just head back.” I definitely did not want to eat in front of a man that looked like that and I just spent $400 at Target. Well Mac did, but I was going to pay him back so it counted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I made a note to take Mac with me on all future shopping trips if available, because he easily carried about 15 bags. It was like having my own personal pack mule.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for helping me carry all that stuff up,” I said as I piled my stuff on the kitchen island.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac was leaning against my counter again, in that nonchalant way I was apparently unable to pull off and hot guys managed to do effortlessly. “Can I see your phone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What why?” I asked the question but I was already handing him the device.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unlock it dumb-dumb,” he pushed my hand back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes and unlocked it with my thumb, handing it to him and he tapped away at it before handing it back. “I put my number in there. You know cause we’re neighbors and stuff. Maybe you need to get a hold of me when I’m away or something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm ok.” I took that phone back unsure of the protocol. This was my neighbor. My very hot, very young, famous neighbor. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to call if I ever see water flooding out of your place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked a little uncomfortable and tapped his fingers on the counter before pushing off of it with his hip. He hesitantly cupped my face with one hand and I inhaled sharply as he bent down to kiss my cheek. It was quick and barely felt his lips on my skin. “Or ya know, anytime you need a pack mule, he whispered, then he was gone, out my door and into his. I stood there for a few long minutes listening to him move around his condo. The walls were decently thick, I couldn’t hear anything specific, just the fact that he was next door. Or maybe it was my imagination making things up, just knowing he was over there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>PART 2</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moving truck arrived the mid morning the next day and I was  sitting on my bare mattress looking at the mess of boxes wondering how I accumulated so much shit while living with my parents.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was deep into a bout of executive dysfunction when large knuckles rapped on my door. “It’s open,” I said without even knowing or caring who was on the other side. If I was murdered I wouldn’t have to unpack and put everything away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s large body managed to slide through the slim opening of the front door that was being blocked by my couch. “I’d lecture you on basic safety, but I would truly feel horrible for any thief or rapist that tried to come in here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I made a face, “What do you want Mac?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did that damn sexy lean against the counter again that made me want to climb him like a jungle gym,  “Just got done with my workout and wanted to make sure your stuff arrived.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I made an exhausted gesture toward all my crap. Those insane minimalists were onto something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pushed off the counter in that sexy way and I screamed internally.  That internal scream turned into an external noise when he flopped down on the double bed next to me. Even though I felt like an absolute whale, his body weight almost sent me flying when he dropped onto the mattress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want some help with this stuff?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was too tired to even feel self conscious about my flabby arm pressed against his definitely not flabby arm. Before I could stop it a self-defeating sigh escaped, “Don’t you have better things to do than hang out with your dumb neighbor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He frowned, “That’s a terrible thing to say about Mr. and Mrs. Foster and their 13 cats.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I made a face again, “The apartment on the other side of you has 13 cats?! Is that even legal?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed, “Ok so it’s more like 3, but it *smells* like 13.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I consciously pushed the urge to lay my head on his shoulder deep into the place where I put things I didn’t want to deal with, “Ugh why did you buy that place then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clever stench coverage by the real estate agent probably. I didn’t notice it until recently.” Mac folded his hands behind his head which just accentuated his biceps and made his t-shirt ride up so I could see the clear v of his hips. I looked away and swiped a hand across my mouth in case I was openly drooling and struggled to sit up. That’s it… tomorrow I was finding a gym. If That™ was living next door I could make an effort to look less like a fat frumpy frump.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He seemed oblivious to my discomfort at being pressed against all his warmth and muscular body that I just really wanted to sink into.  I struggled to the edge of the bed, partly because I knew in theory what abs were, I just didn’t know if I had any and partly because Mac’s big body in the middle of my mattress caused it to dip and gravity wanted me in the middle of that dip pressed against his body. I wanted to lounge on top of him like a lazy cat. The idea made an unattractive flush spread up my neck. I waved a hand in front of my face like a fan,  “Is it hot in here it feels hot in here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac just continued to lay on my bed in that™ way, “this is a ridiculously comfortable mattress. If it were bigger I’d never leave your bed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A wad of spit lodged in the back of my throat and I choked as I propelled off the bed with inhuman speed, “What?” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat, “um you know Mac I have a lot of stuff to get done and…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cut me off, “Yeah, where should we start?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked at him incredulously, “What? What do you mean ‘where should we start?’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He propped himself up on his elbows causing his abs to contract and I was 100% sure those muscles didn’t exist in me…anywhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A look of concern crossed his face, “I mean pick a box, open it, and we unpack it and put stuff away. Did you hit your head or something?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My jaw opened and closed and I was sure I looked like a fish trying to breathe out of water and I was still staring at that strip of exposed skin. Goddamn MacKenzie Blackwood and his stupid giant hot body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luce, are you ok?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yesss, I’m fine.” I made myself turn away and open the closest box. It was pots and pans and I grabbed a few and started putting them away in the lower cabinet closest to the range.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When that was done, I finished emptying the box, pulled the tape off and broke it down, propping it against the wall. Mac was still lounging on the bed and when I looked over at him he was just watching me, his pale blue eyes several shades darker than normal. I don’t know why the idea of him watching me move around my living space irritated me, “Pick a box Blackwood, you stay, you work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark look in his eyes seemed to fade and an easy smile spread across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I unpacked box after box and I couldn’t help but ruminate on why Mac was here. Was I like some sort of surrogate sister figure? A friend? Was he just being neighborly? What 22 year old kid wanted to help his fat old lady neighbor unpack?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac made a strangled noise and he had opened up a big wardrobe box, right on top was a negligee that had been relegated to the back of my closet for years. The tags were still on it; I never had an excuse to wear it. “Oh umm… You can just close that and take it to the closet. That door right off the entrance is the bathroom and the closet is on the other side.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The poor boy was the exact shade of a pomegranate skin when he hefted the big heavy box into his arms and disappeared with it. It was several minutes before he came back. Probably puking into the toilet at the idea of me squeezing all my pale cellulite into that lingerie. Whatever, sometimes fat people liked to feel sexy too. Not that I ever had anyone to look sexy for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Mac returned he took a safer route with a big box labeled “Kitchen” and set about putting away my dishes. He was actually doing a pretty good job too, putting things in places that worked naturally in a kitchen. When he was finished I noticed a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I set a box of silverware on the counter, “Hey Mac? Slight issue.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned, and did the counter hip lean thing again, “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walking up to him I expected him to move out of the way but he didn’t. “You don’t see what the problem might be?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No?” He sounded genuinely confused. Bless him and all of his 6’ 5” of height.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I reached past him, half of my body pressed against his side because he didn’t move, flat footed I could only reach the second shelf, on my tip toes I didn’t even come close to the third shelf of the upper cabinets. “There’s no way I can reach anything up there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Swaying, I accidentally leaned into his body and his arm slipped around my waist to steady me. His eyes were dark and I watched his nostrils flare beneath my eyelashes. “Mac, did you hear me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat which was his obvious tick when he was nervous and he let me go, stepping to the side, “Um yeah. I’ll move everything down. Does that mean you can’t use like 1/3 of your storage space?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah I just put the things I don’t use very often up there.” I gathered the foam sheets that were between all the dishes and shoved them into an empty box.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would you have it if you don’t use it?” It was such a man thing to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like waffle irons, champagne flutes, fancy serving dishes, you know that kind of stuff. My Grandma Lucille left me some really nice silver and crystal. It’s sentimental, but I can’t get rid of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have a waffle iron?” He looked interested and almost eager.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leaning against the counter I tried to look 1/10th  as hot and suave as he did, “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why,” he asked, like it was truly a mystery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard not to smile, “To make waffles obviously.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You make waffles?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This conversation was getting ridiculous and I failed to hold back my grin this time, “Yes. I am capable of making waffles, I just don’t do it very often.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked wistful, “My mom used to make waffles every Sunday. Now I have to go to ‘brunch’ to have waffles.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you make waffles for yourself?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac shrugged, “I don’t really cook.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah there’s that 22 year old boy. I knew he was in there somewhere. Well maybe if you play your cards right I’ll make you waffles on a Sunday morning.” I knew how it sounded as soon as it came out of my mouth and when I snuck a peek at Mac his muscles were bunched under his skin like he was about to push off the counter and his eyes were that dark blue again. “I mean… I’ll owe you at least breakfast for helping me unpack and generally being such a great neighbor and all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He relaxed against the counter again and I swore I heard the tense breath being let out of his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An hour passed without an awkward incident, any conversation was relegated to where I wanted things put away. Between the two of us there was a lot more floor space sans boxes, furniture had been moved to the appropriate places, and Mac even mounted my old flat screen on the wall and hooked up the DVD player.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was on the floor in front of the media console unpacking my DVDs when I found it. “AHA!!” I held up the Princess Bride case victoriously. “I found it! One day I’m going to make good on my threat to make you watch it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac looked up from the kitchen where he was organizing my utensils and silverware. “Is that the movie you wanted me to watch?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should watch it tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I frowned, “What? Tonight? Don’t you have like plans or friends?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh yeah, I have plans to watch that movie with you, my friend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard to hide the warm feeling that spread from my center to my bones and I knitted my brows together in fake consternation, “Smooth Blackwood, smooth, but I’m keeping my eye on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His grin got goofy, and so sweet, “As long as you like what you see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only pure force of will kept my mouth from dropping, was MacKenzie Blackwood FLIRTING with me? No. Not possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t sure what demon possessed my body just then, probably my Granny Lucille, but I heard the words, “Then you should take off your shirt more often,” come out of my mouth in my voice but I didn’t remember making a conscious decision to say them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The large goalie’s face turned red before the cockiness of being a professional athlete at 22 caught up with his brain. My eyes widened when one of his big hands reached behind his head and he pulled his shirt off, the way guys do, and tucked the material into the back pocket of his jeans. The only time he broke eye contact was when the shirt was over his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A confident little smirk spread across his face and it looked way too good on the shy boy that was normally humble and awkward. Oh this was bad. This was sooo bad.  My eyes were locked on his and I wanted more than anything to look down his body. “Put your shirt back on Mac.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Breathe, Luci.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was deeper than normal and I let out the breath I was holding. He did the man lean against the counter again and crossed his feet, heels of his hands gripping the granite behind him. He was the first to break eye contact when he pushed some of his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only then did I let myself look. His broad chest was almost hairless, or fine enough you couldn’t see most of it from across the room, but he a faint happy trail bisecting his V that dipped into the waistband of his jeans. He was absolutely corded with muscle and I was sure dehydrated the man was shredded, but I liked him better looking thick than with abs I wanted to do laundry on. When my eyes traveled back up to his, the cocky little grin was back in place and it was my turn to blush that he caught me looking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s your turn now, Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I knew where this was going and I couldn’t help but smile, “My turn?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes were dark and his voice was an octave too low, “To take off your shirt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The laugh that escaped was sharp and desperate, “only in your dreams Blackwood, you made your point, put your damn shirt back on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave a careless shrug, “Nah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The absolute bastard, “Oh for fucks sake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I did my best to keep unpacking but my gaze kept finding its way to Mac’s naked torso and I was mesmerized by the muscles that bunched and moved underneath the expanse of golden skin. Boy must spend some time with his shirt off while fishing. He caught me more often than not and I was pretty sure my face was permanently red from blushing. Every time he caught me his little smirk got cockier and cockier. I was ready to kiss it right off his face, wait what? I was ready to what?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought threw me for a loop and I chewed on the possibility that Mac was inexplicably attracted to me, and I was definitely attracted to him because I was a mostly heterosexual woman with lady bits that definitely wanted his manly bits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci?” The second time he called my name it penetrated my grey matter and I looked away from the blank wall I had been staring at during my contemplation/disassociation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked at him over my shoulder, “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything ok?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gestured at the wall, “yeah just trying to figure out how I want to hang my pictures and stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, It’s almost 6, I’m going to take these boxes down stairs, take a shower, and pick up some food. What do you want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave a small sigh, “Oh whatever, I’m not picky or allergic to anything and I don’t know what's around here. So just go wherever you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d pulled his shirt back on while I was dissassociating and a large part of me mourned the loss of half naked Mac.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok I’ll be back in an hour or so and then we can watch that movie?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave him a small smile, “Sounds good Blackwood. Don’t get lost.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He disappeared out the door with a huge pile of broken down boxes under his arm. His momma definitely raised him right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sat on the bed and had the realization Mac was going to take a shower and get food and come back *here*. Was this a date? What was I going to wear? The past two days he’d seen me in basically ratty moving clothes and no make up? I decided to just move my body and see how far the hour took me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was just past 7 when the sound of large knuckles rapping on my door carried into the open bathroom.  I called, “It’s open!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci, you need to Lock. Your. Door.” He sounded a little put out, but I was too busy trying not to look like a hobo to care about his misguided White Knight Syndrome.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was putting a sweep of mascara on my eyelashes and didn’t see him walk by the door of the bathroom with enough food to feed a small country. Getting ready for any kind of maybe date was difficult when all my make up and clothes were in boxes. I ended up wearing my most comfortable jeans that were a size too big and a faded Devils t shirt because everything I *wanted* to wear was packed. I managed to find a handful of make up and the result, shabby as it was, was still better than I had looked the past couple of days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac was standing at the counter unpacking box after box. He was wearing some dark jeans and form fitting polo shirt. His hair was still a little damp from the shower and he had made an effort to comb the unruly locks. When he was done, he did his best to salvage the cheap plastic bags the food was packed in and it was strangely endearing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A soft smile pulled at my lips and when he turned to grab some plates he saw me, barefoot in faded jeans and t shirt worn soft from use. He stopped mid reach for the cabinet and what had been a cute moment of me watching him in my kitchen turned thick with tension. He didn’t say anything, but I felt his eyes on every inch of my body and when the attention was too much I rocked back on my bare heels and curled my toes into the cool tile of the kitchen floor. The tendon in Mac’s neck was tight and his body which had been lazy and languid a few moments ago was taut, muscles bunched under his clothes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do I need to lock my door Mac?” My voice sounded breathy to my ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He relaxed a bit but his voice was still deep and rough, “So you don’t get raped or murdered and all your shit taken.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac Blackwood was definitely 100% Ontario country boy, White Knight Syndrome included. “We’re on the 10th floor. I’m at the end of the hall and this building has the world’s slowest elevator. AND I knew you were coming over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His big body relaxed more and he grumbled as he grabbed some plates. “I got sushi, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got a bunch of different stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see that, are you expecting 4 more people?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just wanted to make sure I got something you liked, ya know?” The tips of his ears were red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I took my plate from him, my hand covered his for a moment, “Thanks Mac, that was really thoughtful. You’ve been an absolute godsend this weekend and I really appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached up with his free hand and leaned forward and for a brief moment I thought he was going to cup my neck and kiss me, but he just brushed some hair behind my ear before turning back to the food, “No problem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I watched him heap food on his plate and wondered how many calories he burned in a day. The man must be completely hollow inside. I was half expecting him to grab another plate when he turned to ask me, “Are you going to eat?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eating in front of him didn’t seem appealing but the food looked good and my sensibilities were vetoed when my stomach grumbled. “What do you want? I have a couple different kinds of rolls, some sashimi and nigiri…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You sighed in pure wonder at the spread of food, “Honestly, I haven’t eaten today and it all looks amazing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac frowned, “You said you hadn’t eaten all day yesterday too. You need to take better care of yourself, Babe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nickname slipped out and a dark red blush spread up his neck. He piled some random things on my plate and a moment passed where we both seemed to agree to pretend it never happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to go put the movie on and I’ll bring these over?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah sure,” as soon as I walked over to the TV I encountered a problem that hadn’t occurred to me yet. The only place to watch the movie was the bed, or the love seat pushed against the foot of it. Two people could fit on the love seat comfortably, but only if you were pressed against the other person. The other option was the bed, but that seemed more intimate. “Hey why don’t we watch this at your place, my couch is kinda small.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I looked over at Mac, I saw the precise moment something unidentifiable flickered across his face and then he lied, “I don’t have a DVD Player.” That little shit. He totally had a DVD player.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fine then, “Well let’s just take mine over and hook it up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously? I spent like 45 minutes hooking this all up today. Your couch is fine.” He walked over with the two plates and set them on the coffee table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Watching one of the most romantic movies next to one of the sexiest men I had ever had the privilege of knowing, pressed against him on that small couch was going to test my resolve because I already wanted to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree, sinking down his hard… nope. Nope, not going there. I was not going there. Somewhere in my brain Granny Lucille muttered, “Chicken Shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac took the DVD case out of my hands and turned on the TV and DVD player, starting it before sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on Luci. I showered, I can’t smell that bad and I promise I don’t bite.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pause after that was long and we both heard the part that was unspoken </span>
  <em>
    <span>unless you want me to</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like the almost kiss, we both elected to ignore the blatant unspoken intent. I sat next to him on the floor and we both started to eat as he navigated the DVD menu with the remote. He was almost halfway done with his giant mound of food before the movie even started to play. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wesley was well on his way to declaring his love for Princess Buttercup as the Stable Boy when I finally pushed my empty plate away. Mac had gotten a second helping just as big as the first and put the remainder of the food in the fridge. The nice thing about a small apartment, no need to pause when you needed to go to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grabbed the plates and took them to the sink and I managed to haul myself onto the couch thinking tomorrow was definitely when I was going to start eating right and exercising. When he came back, he sat next to me, a long arm outstretched on the back of the couch and his weight caused my body to fall into him, pressed against the length of him from shoulder to knee. The spicy scent of his body wash, I would bet money was an Old Spice variety, tickled my nose and a feral part of me wanted to bury my face into his neck and breathe deep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I struggled to inch closer to the armrest without making it obvious that’s what I was doing, but the long arm on the back of the couch settled around my shoulders instead and pulled me into hard body of the man next to me. His whisper was almost inaudible, “Stop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so I watched the rest of the movie with my body pressed against his, his heat and scent swirling around my head, arm wrapped around my shoulders. I had more fun watching Mac’s expressions as he watched the movie I loved so much, his face lighting up when he realized a pop culture reference was actually in reference of this movie and I could tell he was beyond delighted when that happened. The entire night was just as ridiculous and romantic as the movie itself and while part of me definitely wanted to strip naked and grind on the big man’s lap, I was content just to watch him watch the movie, tucking my head and blushing whenever he caught me staring. I could hear Granny Lucille cheering from the beyond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was completely gross and romantic and when the final credits rolled, I didn’t want to move. Judging by the big sigh Mac let out, he didn’t want to move either. I felt his fingers twirling the ends of my hair. “That was a good movie, you were right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave him a little smirk, “Of course I was right.” When I looked up, his face was centimeters from mine and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, but like before he just brought his free hand up and pushed my hair out of my face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt his voice more than I heard it, “Do you have to work tomorrow?” His face was so close and I was unsure about my sushi breath so I just nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should get going and let you get to bed then.” His lanky legs unfolded and he pulled me up with him, and he either misjudged his strength or my weight (I hoped it was the latter)  because I fell into his body. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.” I could hear the same flat tone he used to lie to me earlier, he wasn’t sorry at all. His arms were around my waist to steady me, his thumbs stroking the bare skin above the waistband of my jeans. This boy was going to be the goddamn death of me because I was going to spontaneously combust. When I looked up at his face, his eyes were dark and I could feel him getting hard behind the zipper of his jeans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holy shit. MacKenzie Blackwood wanted his older chubby neighbor and that was ME. But that never would never really happen so I cleared my throat and stepped back, pushing his hands out from under my T shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With a small smile I paraphrased the movie we had just watched, “Stop it now, I mean it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A huge dorky smile spread across his face and for once his boyish charm did nothing to tamper the sexual tension, “Anybody want a peanut?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I placed a hand on his hard chest and gave a gentle push, “Go home Mac, take your leftovers with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What leftovers?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My jaw dropped, “You ate all that food?! Where did you put it all? Your stomach isn’t even distended or anything!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As my hand slipped down his torso to rub his nonexistent belly, I realized my mistake because his pupils dilated and skipped several shades between their normal sky blue and the dark sapphire they became when he was turned on. The fact that I knew that about him turned me on and we stood in my living room practically panting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand dipped underneath my hair and settled on the back of my neck. I could feel every finger and his palm, like they were branding my skin with the pattern of his fingerprints. When he finally leaned down his lips grazed my cheek and the touch of his tongue on the helix of my ear was probably imagined. “Goodnight, Luci.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then just like the night before he was gone. This time though as I moved quietly about my unit I definitely heard the garbled mumbles of him talking to himself while he paced about his place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>PART 3</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>It was several days before I saw Mac again. His SUV was always gone before I went to work, if it was there when I got home, I could hear the murmur of the TV through the wall, but he never came over. It was stupid really, feeling let down. I could have called or texted or knocked on his door, but putting myself out there made it too real. If I invested effort it was like I was trying and if he wasn’t really interested, it would be a rejection. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The week passed by somehow simultaneously fast and slow, my condo coming together as I worked on unpacking and putting things away after work. Today had been brutal, a huge project to manage was dumped in my lap because a coworker had to take some emergency leave. I drug my wheelie work bag with my laptop and 50 million folders behind me.  Even though it was after 8 and I had pulled almost a 12 hour day I needed to go over the project and get caught up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator finally came to a stop on the 10th floor and I wearily walked off, contemplating taking off these blasted high heels. I only wore heels to work on presentation days and today I had three of them. The sound of deep voices filled the hall as I stepped off the elevator and dragged my tired body toward my apartment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help when I turned the corner and  saw Mac with two of his friends heading toward me. His grin mirrored mine and I could tell the other two guys were hockey players but without their names on their backs I had no idea who they were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey it’s my neighbor Luci!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don’t know how but the fact he was so happy to see me made my grin even wider, “Hey Mac!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I stopped in front of the guys, halfway down the hall, “Luci, this is Joey and Mikey, guys this my awesome neighbor Luci!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>These were definitely boys and they both mumbled hellos while looking awkwardly at the ground or ceiling anywhere but at any part of me, which was pretty par for the course in my experience.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys heading out?” I leaned on the handle of my bag, desperate to get these stupid heels off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac looked like he could stand in the hall and chat all night and I grimaced internally. “Yeah heading out for a late dinner and then grabbing a drink or two, want to come?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My answer came a little to fast and emphatically, “Nooo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face fell a little and I hurried to ease it, “I just worked like 12 hours and I still have a couple more hours of work tonight before I have to get up and do it all over again. I got this huge project dumped in my lap at work and I just can’t tonight Mac, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The disappointment turned to concern and his brows knitted together, “When was the last time you ate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of the guys nudged him, Mikey maybe, “Mac come on dude I’m starving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go eat right now I promise, go have fun.” I straightened and watched in real time as his eyes got darker realizing I was about four inches closer to his face thanks to the torture devices on my feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice came out deeper than he probably intended, “Call me if you need anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine Mac, go have fun. I’ll see you later.” I started down the hall toward my door, trying not to limp, no doubt in my mind his White Knight Syndrome would cause him to ditch his friends so he could rub my feet, or something equally ridiculous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their voices were hushed, but the acoustics in the hall were astonishingly good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The one I thought was Mikey asked, “That’s the chick you can’t shut up about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Mac’s voice was back to its normal timbre.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know man, she’s kinda fat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words stung and I tried not to react as I walked toward my door. There was the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting the wall, hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s voice was angry, and it was slightly terrifying, “Shut up, you’re just jealous because she’s way out of your league.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could get like an NFL Cheerleader or an Ice Girl or something and that’s what you want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. She’s hot and I would break a cheerleader in half if I so much as touched one. And she’s nice and genuine and likes hockey. You nerds are just shallow assholes.” Mac sounded so proud of me and the way he stated he’d break a skinny chick in half made a shiver crawl down my spine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They turned the corner to the elevator and I was able to stop in front of my door and eavesdrop unashamed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her ass is huge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah perfect for my big hands,” Mac answered with a chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I stifled a giggle and twirled my keys around a finger, briefly distracted by the idea of Mac’s hands on my ass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So are you going to tap that or what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sounded smug when he answered, “Or what.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude I LIKE her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I made a mental note never to have a private conversation in this hallway. They were waiting for the world’s slowest elevator and I could still hear them all the way at my door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could be banging a different 10 every night and you’re stuck on like… a chubby 7. What is wrong with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My knight in shining armor sounded incredulous now, “What is wrong with you? Your mom would smack the shit out of you if she heard you talkin’ that way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My mom isn’t here and neither is yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I heard the elevator open and the last bit of conversation before the doors closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re barely 22 dude, live it up damn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t hear Mac’s response and I let myself into my condo. His friends basically confirmed everything I suspected, but a 7 was higher on the scale than I would have rated myself. I was maybe a 6 on a good day. I was not NHL star material and despite that fact Mac Blackwood *liked* me. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like I could conquer Everest and still want to drown my misery into several pints of Ben &amp; Jerry’s. I grabbed a fresh pint of Americone Dream out of the freezer and kicked off the stupid high heels before sinking into the couch. I dug the spoon into the frozen cream I was about to devour in place of therapy with an appropriately accredited professional. I promised Mac I would eat, I just didn’t specify what. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Halfway through the pint I  felt sick to my stomach and I slouched further into the couch, popping the button on my slacks. I wanted to take a bath in that beautiful new soaker tub in my bathroom that had definitely been a selling feature, but I knew if I did my muscles would turn into putty and I’d never get any work done before falling into a coma. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sigh I got up to put the ice cream back in the freezer, grabbed a prepackaged salad bowl, and my laptop. It was past eleven when I finally closed the computer, bleary eyed, and managed to change into pajamas. My last thought before falling asleep, I hadn’t heard Mac come home. That bothered me more than it should have. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac was waiting outside my door when I got home from work the next day, a bouquet of grocery store flowers in his large hands. I couldn’t help the smile on my face and just like before it was mirrored in his. “Mac, what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Waiting for you obviously.” He had been leaning against the door and he pushed off of it when he saw me approaching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, but you live next door…” The fact he was waiting outside when our doors were literally two feet from one another made me grin like a loon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to make sure I didn’t, you know, miss you or anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been working late all week, you could’ve been waiting for hours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged his wide shoulders and held the tired bouquet out to me and I took it,  “Thank you, these are beautiful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac took the keys from my hand and unlocked the door, holding it open for me. “At least you lock your door when you’re not home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A chuckle escaped before I could stop it and I pushed past his big body into my kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad your personal safety is funny to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s funny that you think I’m in danger living in a building with a doorman, up 10 floors, at the end of the hall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac shut the door behind him and then opened the fridge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you hungry or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closed the refrigerator after inspecting the contents, “Nope just making sure there’s actually food in this thing and you’re eating it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes as I took the cellophane off the flowers and started cutting the bottom of the stems off, “Can you grab the vase in the top part of that cabinet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You keep this in the top part of the cabinet?” Mac turned the crystal vase in his hands gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where you keep all the other things you don’t use very often?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh yeah, I rarely have a need to use my grandmother’s crystal vase.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh. Grandma Lucille?” Mac did the fucking counter lean and my brain almost short circuited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A smile ghosted my lips when he brought up Granny, “What are the flowers for anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He folded his arms across his chest and his biceps strained at the sleeves. “Because I think you heard part of that conversation last night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I flushed and my face turned a particularly deep shade of vermillion and I settled the freshly cut stems into the vase, “Um yeah…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re just assholes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.” I didn’t look at him and filled the vase with water setting it in the middle of the island. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence stretched awkwardly before Mac cleared his throat, “Give me your phone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Damn Blackwood and his country boy charm, I was already handing it to him as I asked, “Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t take it and rolled his eyes, “Unlock it dumb-dumb.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was my turn to roll my eyes and I pressed my thumb to the button before handing it back to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tapped away on it until the telltale *swoosh* of a message being sent sounded. The responding *ding* of Mac’s phone getting a text message practically echoed in the kitchen. “Did you just send yourself a text from my phone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He handed my phone back to me and walked to the door opening it, “Yeah. I did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I did my best to mimic his nonchalant lean on the counter, “Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped outside the door but put his hand at the top of the door jam leaning back into the entrance to the apartment, “Because you were taking too damn long to text or call me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I fought a smile and lost before I shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac stood in the doorway, arm up, gripping the trim almost hesitant to leave. He swallowed and then asked, “How much of that conversation did you hear?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Biting my lip I looked down, blushing again, “All of it, until the elevator closed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I could see the big man blush from where I was standing, “They’re wrong you know. You’re a fuckin’ 9 at least and if they can’t see that… good, I’d hate to have to punch them for flirting with my girl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked up, “Your what?” but the doorway was empty and I heard the click of Mac’s door shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My phone gave a soft ding and vibrated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You heard me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I raised my voice, yelling the shared wall between us, “YOU’RE AN IDIOT MAC BLACKWOOD. A CERTIFIED IDIOT.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Man my hot neighbor is LOUD</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon that sometimes inhabited my body at the expense of my humiliation decided to take over and I was tapping out a response before I could stop myself. As it sent I could hear Granny Lucille cackling in that special way she used to when she was up to no good. I suspected that demon was actually the incorporeal spirit of Granny Lucille doing her best to act as a guardian angel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You should try and make her scream your name for real.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was barely a pause between the swoosh of the sent message, the free fall of despair at my action, the responding *ding* of the message being received, and the loud thump and “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME,” from next door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I win.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I heard Mac’s door open and there was a pause. I knew he was staring at my door. I held my breath, I could feel him. But then I heard his door close and his footfalls moving away as he jogged down the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sigh I pulled the unfinished pint of Ben &amp; Jerry’s out of the freezer and stared at my grocery store flowers until the spoon scraped the bottom of the container. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I finally got to use my luxurious tub, candles lit on every surface of the bathroom, soft music coming from the bluetooth speaker on the counter, soaking in a mountain of bubbles and LUSH bath bomb when my phone vibrated on the little tray I had set up next to the tub to hold my phone and cup of tea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: What are you doing beautiful?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally using my amazing bathtub.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dots that a response was being typed flickered several times.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Are you joking?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I just came back from a run in the summer heat because of the last text you sent and you’re going to make me go for another one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That sounds like a personal problem, Blackwood.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The groan from next door could be heard through the wall and I smiled to myself. Somewhere in the everafter Granny Lucille cackled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My poor neighbor sounds sexually frustrated.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dots indicated a response was being typed. They appeared and disappeared several times. I finally put my phone down and settled into the bath feeling all the tension from moving and the hectic week at work drain from my body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Florence Welch was halfway through a long ballad when my phone vibrated again. My instagram was set to private and one “macblackwood29” was requesting access. Oh lord. I accepted, there wasn’t a need to follow him back because I already was, oops. This was probably a horrible idea. Florence finished her crooning ballad and there was a soft thump and a groan from next door. I paused the playlist and listened carefully. Another groan came and this time it sounded like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Luci</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What in the world? A louder moan made it through the wall and this time I definitely heard my name. Was he… was he masturbating to my Instagram?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you seriously doing what I think you’re doing?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: If you think I’m rubbing it to that photo of you last Labor day in that sexy bathing suit you would be correct.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>MY. GOD.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You can call me Mac, I’m pretty humble.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re incorrigible. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Ma’am I’m just a simple country boy from Ontario I don’t have a use for those $10 words.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip. The idea of Mac’s big hand fisting his cock and stroking it to my photo was a level of hot I didn’t even know existed. My fingers skimmed over one of my nipples and it puckered. Another moan made it through the wall and it was like someone lit a firecracker to my libido. I slid my hand down my body and between the folds. I stroked a fingertip over my clit as I texted him back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why that photo?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You’re seriously asking me that? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not even a sexy bathing suit it’s plain black.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: It’s retro with those cutouts that are covered in mesh. You look like a pinup. You’re kneeling in the ocean, not even aware someone’s taking your photo, smiling, and that bathing suit is hot AF. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: The idea of you on your knees for me. Taking me in your mouth? God… </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I laid my head back against the porcelin of the tub and slid two fingers inside, “Oh fuck.” My voice echoed in the bathroom and there was an audible chuckle from the other side of the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You like that idea babe? I just want to cum all over you, mark every inch of you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ Mac.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Are you touching yourself in the bath, beautiful?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t bother texting back, the echo of the bathroom was more than loud enough to let him hear me, “Fuck.. Yes.. Mac.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand slammed against the wall and I was pretty sure at least three other units heard him groan my name as he came.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Yeah. I want to hear you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can’t remember ever being this turned on before, listening to him, holy shit. There was a thing, somewhere. I got out of the bath that had turned tepid long ago and wrapped a towel around myself. There was a thing, it had been a gag gift for a bachelorette party. I dug into the boxes in my closet. Finally, my fingers closed around the length. It was a dildo larger than I would have considered using before with a suction cup on the end. I didn’t know why I kept it, but this was perfect. If the gods were on my side it would stick to the smooth drywall. Feeling puckish I flicked the deadbolt on the door. I was about to break that big goalie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Did you die in the tub, do I need to rescue you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, just needed an accessory, are you still by the wall?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Yeah, I’m going to have to clean all my cum off of it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That is equal parts gross and hot beyond belief.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pressed the dildo against the wall and hallelujah it stuck. The idea of impaling myself on a huge fake dick that was probably still smaller than Mac’s actual dick, while he listened on the other side of the wall was enough to make me a little dizzy. I could feel slick leaking between my thighs and it had nothing to do with being wet from the bath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: What was that sound on the wall?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just a suction cup friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Are you fucking kidding me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You’re going to fuck yourself on a dildo attached to the wall I’m on the other side of?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s the plan.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: adklgj</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dropping the towel I spread the lips of my labia with two fingers, rubbing the head of the dildo through my folds. I had never used it before and it felt huge. I shimmied back, working the tip inside me. I felt my entrance close over the rim and the moan I let out was obscene. “Oh my god Mac.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a string of curses on the other side of the wall, “I’m coming over!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but bite my lip and grin letting out another moan as I took the dildo deeper with short thrusts against it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac hit the door so hard drywall dust fell from the ceiling, “LUCI, WHAT THE FUCK. YOU LOCK YOUR DOOR NOW?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a particularly hard thrust I felt the pink dildo bottom out inside me and the noise that came out of my mouth was an octave I didn’t know I could hit. Mac’s door slammed and I could hear him on the other side of the wall. The phone vibrated in my hand as I circled my hips, feeling the fake dick stretch me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Baby, I am DYING.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can you cum again? With me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Probably, my dick is so hard I could cut diamonds with it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your cock would feel so much better than this. I know it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I heard him groan from his side of the wall, “You are KILLING me baby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Knowing he was so turned on by the idea of fucking me, looking at my pictures, I could feel my entire sex throb and I fucked myself onto that dildo as hard and as fast as I could. My breath came in moans and I was just saying one thing “Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac, Oh god, Mac!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My vagina clenched on the pink polymer dildo, my entire body shuddered and I came with a throaty goan, Mac’s name still on my lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What I was sure was his fist, hit the wall hard and then I heard him cum with a shout. I pulled myself off the dildo and slid down the wall with shaky legs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done, are you still alive?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: No. Will you unlock the door?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. I think you should go for another run.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You’re a witch.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But you like me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: More than ever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> And that’s how I fell asleep, naked, against the wall, my cheek somehow resting on the used dildo still suctioned to the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone still clutched in my hand, vibrated about 30 minutes later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You still there?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I fell asleep.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Against the wall?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. That’s embarrassing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I had to go for another run. I’ll be in the best shape of my life if we keep this up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If that’s the case, I’ll expect a SV% over .930 this season.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I need you to not do that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do what?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Talk about hockey. I just came twice and went for two runs. I’m spent.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That turns you on?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Like you have no idea.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to get cleaned up and go to bed anyway. Night Mac.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Night Luci.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a groan I pushed myself up from the floor and peeled the dildo off the wall tossing it into the bathroom sink. Ten minutes later the tub was rinsed out, I was freshly showered, the dildo I was definitely keeping forever now was washed and put away, and I was in one of my brother’s old Devils T Shirts that was more like a dress than a shirt, face planted into my pillow. I didn’t even care about my wet hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Part 4</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only person who could be pounding on my door at this time of morning on a Saturday was Mac or my mother. Considering I currently wanted to murder whoever was on the other side, I hoped it was my mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanks to that mindblowing orgasm, I slept like the dead and the clock on my nightstand told me it was well past 8 in the morning. Light was streaming into my beautiful windows; I needed coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The banging started again, “Luce, I have coffee.” I was going to marry that man right there in the doorway if he also brought an officiant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I peeled my face off of the pillow and tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes. It didn’t work because my eyes were convinced I should still be unconscious and floating in dreamland. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since I couldn’t see, I stubbed on toe on the couch and as I cursed and hobbled to the door, I whacked my elbow on the kitchen island.”Goddamn shit cunt motherfuckering bullshit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci, is everything ok?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I flicked open the deadbolt and threw open the door, “MacKenzie, give me coffee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don’t know what Mac saw, but I watched him experience 400 emotions in real time. The first was fear, the second shock, the third had his eyes darkening in that telltale way, and he finally settled on amusement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I held out my hand, “Blackwood, give me caffeine or we will both be on the news tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pressed the 20 ounces of liquid nice juice into my hand, “I got you a latte, I figured everyone likes a latte.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took the coffee into my kitchen and proceeded to dump two packets of stevia into it, “I love a latte. I want to marry a latte. If you had brought some official person I would have married you right in the hall for bringing me a latte.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He choked on his coffee, that was no doubt black, because men apparently don’t have taste buds and hockey locker rooms thrive on toxic masculinity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip and looked at Mac over the cup before blowing into the lid so I didn’t burn my tongue,  </span>
  <span>“You’re up awful early for a Saturday in the offseason. Pretty sure I read an article that said you didn’t get up until past noon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac turned that special shade of pomegranate and rubbed the back of his neck, “Well yeah, but eventually everyone has to grow up. Is that a shirt or a dress and are you wearing anything under it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took a sip of the sweet sweet nectar of the coffee bean, “It was my big brother’s but I stole it to sleep in last time he was home for a visit. Emphasis on big. Josh is probably 6’2” and 300. He’s into that competitive weight lifting stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, big dude,” Mac looked impressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He could probably bench press you with one arm and me with the other at the same time. It’s ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac did the hip against the island and set his paper cup on it, “What are you doing today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I frowned, “Going go into the office for a bit. Try and get a jump on the week and that damn project. What about you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A big hand rubbed the stubble on his jaw, “Well work out probably. I already had to go for a run today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” I tried to look innocent but I wasn’t fooling anyone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I followed my hot neighbor on Instagram and then there was an incident where I heard her through the wall. Just talking about it, I’ll probably have to go run again.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s probably a good thing I need to get an extra workout in, you know,  I have a fishing trip with some of the boys this week. I leave Monday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I really hoped I masked the disappointment I felt, “Really? That sounds fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It should be, we’re going into upper Ontario, probably won’t have cell service you know, though. That sucks.” He picked up his coffee and sucked down another swallow then he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, both tells that he was nervous. I didn’t say anything. “Look, I’d like to take you out, ya know, on a date. Maybe tonight, ya know, if that’s possible?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was my turn to blush and look awkward, “I don’t know how long I’ll be at work, but why don’t you come over tomorrow morning, around 9? I have a little bit of a surprise for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A grin lit up Mac’s face, “A surprise?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His excitement made me feel a little awkward and sheepish, “Yeah, it’s not like a big surprise or anything…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still want to take you out on like.. a proper date, ya know, when I get back maybe?” He was peppering in the “you knows,” which was his third tell that he was nervous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but smile, “I’ll have something to look forward to all week, which will be nice, because I’m sure work will be a bitch.” I turned to open the cabinet to put the little container of Stevia away. When I turned back around a frown flickered across Mac’s face so fast I couldn’t be sure if I saw it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I need to get going, ya know, work out? And you probably need to go to work and stuff.” Mac threw his empty cup in the trash under my sink and stopped when he was close. He licked his lips and I thought he was going to kiss me, I was almost grateful when he cupped my jaw with his big hand. His thumb stroked my cheek for a moment and then he kissed the top of my head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s kinda cute you keep chickening out about kissing me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped, with the door open, “I’m just waiting for the right time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Suuuure ya are.” I gave him my best doubtful expression but Mac just looked mildly amused, but he got the parting shot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe brush your hair before going into the office eh Luce?” He closed the door and I tried not to make a mad scramble for the bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I failed, and the noise I made when I saw my reflection was high pitched and involuntary. Even if I teased it and used a gallon of Aquanet I wouldn’t be able to replicate the height or tangles. Deep chuckles made it through the wall and I suddenly understood the myriad of emotions I watched him go through when I opened the door and he STILL asked me out. In the back of my brain I heard Granny Lucille, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Will wonders never cease?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I got ready for work in record time, trading in the Power Executive look I rocked during the week for my favorite jeans. It was definitely Top Down on Edna weather so I tossed on a Devs ballcap, and made a note to swing by Grandma Edna’s assisted living community to take her for a drive in the afternoon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saturday flew by and I realized as I crawled into bed, I hadn’t heard from Mac since he left that morning. It left an uneasy feeling in my stomach and I tossed and turned all night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac rapped his knuckles against the door right at 9am. I was in the kitchen throwing ingredients into a mixing bowl, the island was set up to eat with the flowers he had given me in the middle. “Mac you know it’s open.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He came in looking very much like a nervous 22 year old boy. He was in pressed jeans and an ironed polo, his hair still wet from a shower and he was holding a gift bag that was dwarfed in his big hands. “Hey Luce. I um.. brought you something.” He was acting weird.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok you didn’t have to do that.” I put the bowl down and took the bag from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand rubbed the back of his neck, “I know, I just… wanted to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should I open it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… I mean ya know, if you want too.” Ah a “ya know,” the second sign of his boyish nerves that I honestly thought were stupidly adorable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I want to.” I stuck my hand in the tissue paper and pulled out something soft. it looked like a rolled up t-shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac hurried to explain, “That old shirt of your brother’s, it has Schneid’s name and number on it and it was weird seeing you in it. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t have time to get you a new one..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shook the shirt out and it was one for the Binghamton Devils. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s an old one, but you stole your brother’s so I thought you probably wouldn’t mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I did what every girl does with her boyfriend’s clothes and brought it to my face to smell it. It smelled like him. Wait my what? Did I just think of him as my boyfriend? “I love it Mac, thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face broke into a big smile and his body language eased. A long arm reached out and snagged me, pulling me into his body for a hug. I probably imagined him smelling my hair. I definitely took a deep breath with my face buried in his chest. He smelled fresh, clean man with an underlying scent that was just pure Mac.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So gorgeous, what’s your surprise for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pulled away from his embrace and shrugged, “It’s nothing as awesome as an old t shirt, but I will need you to get the waffle iron down from the top shelf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s brows knitted together, “You’re making me waffles?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On a Sunday?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was starting to get nervous now, what if this was a bad idea? “Well you said your mom used to make waffles every Sunday and I just thought…” I didn’t get to finish the sentence. Mac’s hand slid to the back of my neck, his thumb tilting my chin up as he pulled me into his body again, then his lips were on mine. It started hard and passionate but then he softened and pressed his forehead to mine as our lips broke apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect, you’re perfect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip, this close I could see his blue eyes actually had a small ring of brown around the pupil. When I was capable of speaking again, it came out as a whisper, “I’m glad you like it.” I slid my hands to his face and brought his lips back to mine and I kissed him again. I felt a hesitation in his body and pulled away, “What's wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swallowed, “I really just want to rip your clothes off, flip you around and fuck you hard on the kitchen counter, but that is not how I want today to go, or how I want our first time to be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shiver thrummed through my body, “Oh? How do you want this to go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pressed open mouth kisses down the column of my throat and spoke between kisses, “Not like that, you deserve more than that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I just could NOT with this boy. I pressed a kiss to his temple and stepped back. “I have NO idea what I did to deserve you, but it must have been good. Now grab the waffle iron and let’s have breakfast.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac grabbed the waffle iron and plugged it in while I finished the batter and started some eggs and bacon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over breakfast we talked about a lot of things. He told me about his younger brother Brody had just graduated from high school. I told him my eldest sister Jill and my brother Josh were twins. Jill had just been made the youngest partner at her firm and Josh was a pediatrician. My middle sister Jennifer had fucked off all that competitive high powered bullshit and was a photographer, the one that had taken that picture of me in the surf Mac liked so much, and I was here with an MBA working as a project manager former graphic designer for an Ad agency trying to combine the best parts of all my siblings into one package. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac helped me clean up after breakfast and neither of us really wanted this end. We talked about astrology (he wasn’t really a believer, I was), hockey (but that was short lived when his eyes went from his normal sky blue to black). He told me about his rough transition to the NHL. I told him I was pretty sure my Granny Lucille was haunting me. Of course she would have said guiding, but when Granny Lucille decided to drive the Luci express I didn’t always agree with her decisions. Mac didn’t even look at me like I was crazy. He just stared at the crystal vase thoughtfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was well past 2pm when Mac finally left with the chastest kiss lingering on my lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the day was spent unpacking the final boxes, making sure everything had a place, and listening to Mac move around his condo.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>Part 5</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monday, was hell as predicted. I had rolled into the office well before 7am and didn’t have a moment to breathe before noon.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I grabbed a granola bar out of the vending machine for lunch and glanced at my phone I had over 100 notifications. Yikes. I made the mistake of going to my going to my text messages first.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I miss you already. &lt;3</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 2: Why is MacKenzie Blackwood liking every photo of you on my Instagram?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 2: He followed my business Insta. LUCI. WHAT IS GOING ON?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just Joshua: Why did Mackenzie Blackwood just add me on Instagram and ask for workout tips? Jen said he followed you and liked all your pictures.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just Joshua: He also said I could have my Cory Schneider shirt back. I THOUGHT I LOST IT YOU LITTLE FUCKING THIEF.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 1: Look Luci, I have no idea what is happening but Josh and Jen have both texted and called me looking for information regarding you and MacKenzie Blackwood. Please call someone back. I don’t have time to deal with the drama.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grammy Edna: Who is this boy that’s liking all your photos on your sister’s Internet? He’s cute!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 2: LUCILLE SMITH. MACKENZIE BLACKWOOD IS FOLLOWING MY INSTAGRAM, HE’S FOLLOWING YOUR INSTAGRAM. I’VE GOTTEN 40 MORE FOLLOWERS ON MY PERSONAL AND BUSINESS PAGES IN THE LAST 1/2 HOUR WHAT IS HAPPENING?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mama: Luci dear, your father is muttering gibberish and he’s been on the phone with Joshua for the 2O minutes. What is going on?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Double yikes. I checked Instagram. I had 100 new follower requests, 30 message requests, and easily 100 new notifications and this was because Mac had posted his favorite photo of me at the beach to his story, crediting Jen and her business as well as adding a heart eyes emoji and tagging me in it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I texted Mac</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>MY ENTIRE FAMILY IS ON FIRE WHAT DID YOU DO?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I sent a screenshot of his story to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I said, I missed you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>MAC. I HAVE 100 INSTAGRAM NOTIFICATIONS. WARN A GIRL NEXT TIME. GODDAMNIT BLACKWOOD. PS. I miss you too. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Oops.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that I sent a group text to my family.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>MACKENZIE BLACKWOOD IS MY NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR. WE ARE APPARENTLY DATING. I WILL HAVE LUNCH WITH JEN WEDNESDAY AND SHE WILL TELL ALL OF YOU EVERYTHING SO I ONLY HAVE TO TELL THIS GODDAMN STORY ONCE. NOW LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. I’M AT WORK.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mama to the group: LUCILLE ELIZABETH DO NOT TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME AND WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE. IT’S NOT LADYLIKE. Mac looks like a nice boy, a little young though.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s worth about 3 million dollars.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mama to the group: Marry him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 1 to group: I’M IN A MEDIATION. FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY STOP.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mama to the group: Oh Jilly, you know you can mute the message notifications. Stop being a drama queen. And I hope you’re not wearing that navy suit. It’s not flattering on your hips. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 1: MOM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 2: MOM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Edna: Oh shut up Karen. Leave your children alone. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dad to group: Blackwood isn’t going to be the starter this year is he? I mean he’s fine but Schneider has more experience. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leave it to my dad to miss the point ENTIRELY.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Picking up my brother and heading up, service will be spotty. I’ll be thinking about you all week.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 2: Lunch, Wednesday, 12 our place. LUCI YOU HAVE SOME ‘SPLAINING TO DO.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hated it when Jen pulled out her Ricky Ricardo impersonation, even it was over text. I was tempted the throw the phone across the room but I couldn’t afford another one, so I just turned it off. If this is what dating Mac Blackwood entailed I didn’t know if I was ready for it. I hadn’t even gone through the Instagram notifications, I was too scared. Everyone probably shared the same opinion as his dumb hockey friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was well after 7 when I left work. I turned my phone back on and about 100 more notifications from text messages and Instagram showed up. I just read the first one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Look don’t read any of your Insta notifications. I’m sorry. I deleted it. I had no idea that would happen. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I know you probably turned your phone off at work because of everything. Or you’re ignoring me and will never talked to me ever again. Please please please call me if it’s the first one. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t get a chance to call Mac because he called me as I was reading his second text message. Seeing his name flash on my screen made my stomach flip and I couldn’t help but answer with a smile on my face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey handsome.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sounded positively surprised, “Hey beautiful, Did you just get off work?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Walking out the door to Edna as we speak, how was your day?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sounded tired and defeated, “Long day of travel. You obviously haven’t looked at any of the messages on Instagram and just don’t, please just delete them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed. Mac probably got a nasty DM or two I probably had an inbox full. I just hope to god he never saw the extent of it. I knew what I looked like, I knew what the messages would say. “I won’t, but it doesn’t matter, I know what most of them say anyway.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My parents want to meet you. My brother thinks you’re the hottest thing he’s ever seen. I just.. I don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I stopped at Edna and beeped open her locks putting my rolling briefcase in the front seat. “Mac I don’t look like normal WAGs. I can’t shop at designer stores; I’m not a model or an Insta influencer. I’m just a normal girl with a fat ass and an MBA.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was the first time Mac sounded angry and it was directed at me. “Shut the fuck up. You are gorgeous. Look, I’ve dated the tiny little blonde before and it doesn’t work out. I’m a big guy Luce. I like… I like it, ya know, when things get rough. And you. You look like you can handle the rough stuff and I don’t mean just sex. You are smart. You are educated; you have a good head on your shoulders and I know if this goes where I want it to you won’t care if I’m on the road half the year. You won’t be lying awake at night wondering where I am, who I’m with. You can handle this. That’s why I like you. You’re strong. I like you. I want to tell the whole world I like you and I don’t care if people don’t like it. I don’t care if I get hate for it. But I DO care if you do. I know you can handle it, but I honestly did not see this happening and I know if I gave you the chance to prepare you’d be fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I slid into Edna’s driver’s seat and sighed. “Mac… sometimes it’s hard to remember you’re 22. The words that come out of your mouth are older than you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> I started the car and Mac’s voice went from the phone to the speakers of the car via bluetooth. “Look I had to grow up to play in the NHL and now I’m sharing the goalie position with a great player on a 3 time Stanley Cup winning team. I decided to apply that to my entire life. My parents are still married after many years and they have a good relationship. I just… I want that and I know I have to bring something to the table that’s more than a paycheck if I want someone quality to share my life with. I could throw a rock and hit 30 beautiful women who would marry me for my money and fame. You don’t give a shit about either. Honestly, I think you would only break up with me if my SV% fell below a .90.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave a fake gasp. “I would never. I’d make you see a therapist first. It worked for Lehner!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GOD you are perfect. Luce I have to go, but this week please please please just don’t trust anything that doesn’t come from me and delete all the hateful bullshit. I am going to be thinking about you literally every second and I am so sorry for today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pulled Edna out of the company parking garage and headed home… where Mac wouldn’t be. “I know and I’ll deal just like you know I would. Have fun with your brother and your friends this week and don’t worry about me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are seriously perfect. PERFECT. Have a great week Luce, I’ll see you Sunday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sounded so happy and relieved I couldn’t help but smile even though he couldn’t see me, “I’ll see you Sunday Blackwood.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night I spent on my couch shoveling some Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey into my face while reading every single Instagram notification. Some were what Mac feared. He had obviously gotten a couple of these, but I doubted the held the hateful vitriol my inbox held. I read them, but then I deleted them. I shouldn’t read them, but I couldn’t help it. They were fueling my inner dialogue and self hatred. Surprisingly, a lot were really positive. People were surprised Mac would be willing to look past the typical type of women NHLers tended to date and marry. A lot of the messages were complimentary, there were also a bunch of really gross messages from dudes. Some I took screenshots of and sent to Jen. Jill would just want to sue everyone. There was even a marriage proposal or two. I send those screenshots as a joke to Mac.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Looks like you have some competition Blackwood. Better level up your game.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I’m not a goon but I’ll kill every one of those motherfuckers. JK.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like I would ditch the hottest thing in New Jersey for some accountant named Brad.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Still. Hang onto your panties, I went from the ECHL to the NHL in a year. Leveling up is my goddamn business.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. What if I’m not wearing panties?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: aslgdjk</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sent him a photo of me in the t-shirt he gave me. It was a little bit tighter in the boobs than the one stretched out by my brother and his Terry Crews physique, but it still fit. In the photo you could definitely tell I wasn’t wearing a bra and Mac’s number was on the left shoulder over the Binghamton Devils logo on the front.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Fair warning I’m saving that. I’m going to jerk off to it, multiple times, and at some point I will probably be incredibly stupid and post that on Insta. Sorry in advance, but you are too sexy to hide.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>BLACKWOOD.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Oops losing service. Gotta go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>YOU ARE A LIAR. YOU AT YOUR PARENTS’ TONIGHT</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: How do you know that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unlike you, I can keep a secret. I have spies everywhere Blackwood. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: My mom added you on instagram didn’t she?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If she did I would never betray her confidence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It totally wasn’t his mom. It was his little brother, who definitely had a crush on me and kept sending me updates. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: But seriously, it’s late there and you probably have to be at work before the sun comes up. Sleep well gorgeous.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Night Mac. Bring a fish back home for me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I fell asleep with my phone in my hand and a smile on my face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tuesday was much the same, minus the drama. The project that had been dropped in my lap was a pro bono nationwide print/social media/television campaign for a non profit that was trying to set up an entire infrastructure for all of the Greyhounds that were about to be displaced by Florida’s dog racing ban. Tens of thousands of Greyhounds were about to need homes and that didn’t count the thousands that were already flooding the US from China and overseas from closed or abandoned race tracks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because it was technically a pro bono account I could only work on it for a set number of hours per day. Leaving the majority of my work day to the rest of our large paying clients. I foresaw a lot of after hours time being spent on this. I was salary so I wouldn’t get overtime, but doing well on this project meant good feelings for the CEO and Shareholders and company visibility. If things went well, I was going to be getting a big bonus at the end of the fiscal year. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The national rescue was based in San Diego but they were trying to set up smaller satellite facilities all over the country, focusing on the East Coast. I was going to meet with some of the Board members at a local shelter on my lunch today. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>2 hours later I walked back into the office with a brindle greyhound trotting sedately on my heels while I lugged a huge dog bed into the elevator. It took less than an hour for my boss and his boss to quietly knock on my office door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm Luci..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Charlie, Hi Brian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci… you know we’re not a pet friendly office.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took a deep breath. “Charlie… I’m working on 6 accounts. HR stipulates I should be working on 3… maximum. That means my billing hours are technically over 80 hours per week. I know we’re billing the clients for those hours and I’m only getting paid for 40 of them. The Greyhound Rehab Project is a pro bono client. If we can get a Super Bowl spot we’re going to make about a 100 million football fans cry harder than Sarah MacLachlan and we will get thousands of dogs adopted. It will be a huge success. Brian here will probably be on the Today Show.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Make it happen Charlie. Besides dog friendly offices have a huge uptick in production. I’m already as productive as three people. Think what will happen if I can have a dog here. You could probably fire Janet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie just sighed and looked at Brian. “Call HR.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If she quits I have to do her job and what I can’t get done YOU will have to do, and frankly I don’t want to work that hard. DO YOU BRIAN?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian made a face and both men disappeared from my office. My new greyhound hadn’t even lifted his head through the entire exchange. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed for the billionth time of the day, “Mac isn’t going to be thrilled at your guard dog capabilities dude.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then I wondered when exactly I started giving a shit about Mac’s opinion on my wellbeing and safety. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I spent most of the afternoon wondering what the hell I had been thinking, getting a dog what was larger than most ponies. But after an hour I forgot he was even in my office, he just slept in the corner on his big memory foam bed. The only time he moved was when I needed to yell at someone or write a polite “per my last email,” email. Then he just set his long face on my thigh and I absentmindedly stroked his head and yelled at Janet. I didn’t even have to bribe an intern to take him out in the late afternoon, 3 of them volunteered. A potty schedule with rotating shifts was created and posted outside my door. Linda from HR even came by. She had a stern look on her face, but within five minutes the 50 year old woman was on the floor of my office in her Chanel suit cuddling the brindle dog. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometime around the hour where most people were having dinner, I took a picture of the dog and sent it to Mac.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So this happened.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer and I didn’t really expect him to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An alarm on my phone went off at 8 and the unnamed dog and I exited the building. I thought putting him in Edna was going to be a problem, but he just laid down in the backseat. An hour later I left PetSmart with another huge dog bed, dog food, dog bowls, toys, a harness with a seatbelt adapter, and about a million other things. By some miracle I managed to get it all into Edna. Somewhere inside my brain I heard Granny Lucille. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Girl your life if is off the rails! But I like the dog.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanks Granny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I ended up having to make 3 trips from Edna to my condo to get all the dog stuff. The Greyhound made exactly one and a half trips before laying on his bed in the middle of the kitchen where I had dumped it. I had to make the last trip by myself and instead of waiting for the slowest elevator in the world I decided to take the stairs. Down was fine… I regretted my decision from floors 2-9 on the way back up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gasping for breath, blotchy from exertion, and dripping sweat I came back to my unit and a text notification was on my phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I have a lot of questions and spotty service, but I like him. What’s his name?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know his name. His registered racing name was something long and stupid and I couldn’t even remember. Granny Lucille had an opinion though. Granny always had an opinion. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Deke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Deke?” The dog popped his head up. “Deke. Come.” He hopped off the bed and ambled over. Ok. Deke it was. I took a selfie of us and sent it Mac.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Deke and I are exhausted and going to bed. Night Blackwood.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wednesday I went into the office early again, Deke dutifully on my heels. I was beginning to understand why the Greyhound people had brought him to the meeting. I was also beginning to understand why they laughed hysterically when I told them I lived in a tiny apartment and couldn’t POSSIBLY have such a big dog. He didn’t really DO anything. He lay on his bed, or he laid on my bed and slept and snored. Occasionally, he put his head on a part of my body to be petted.When I had gotten up at zero dark thirty to get ready for work he just rolled over on his back with a groan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I stopped a dog park that was on the way to work and let him out to stretch his legs for a few minutes. It was my first introduction to a Greyhound’s version of the zoomies and it was equal parts impressive and terrifying. Dogs came off the track with broken limbs all the time, sometimes so badly mangled the leg had to be amputated. But Deke just did a few laps at Mach 1 in the sticky Jersey sunrise before collapsing into a heap at my feet. “Really? That’s it? A couple laps and you’re done?” Deke just huffed air through his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>News of Deke spread through the office. Everyone came to look at him and pet him. Many were disappointed when they thought they were going to get to play with a dog and what they got was sleeping brindle lump on Tempur Pedic dog bed. I didn’t even bother closing my office door. He wasn’t going anywhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At 11:30 my phone started buzzing like crazy. Mac had posted the selfie I had taken with Deke to his story. He didn’t tag me in it this time, but there were a bunch of heart emojis around us. I had ended up accepting about 30 of the 100 follow requests last time. Some of them were body positive influencers, some just normal people who looked interesting, a handful of Mac’s former teammates in the ECHL and AHL, and Kevin Rooney. My dad and brother had predictably freaked out.  I was beginning to wonder if I could leverage Mac and this Instagram platform as part of the Greyhound Project.  Before the barest outline could begin to form in my mind my phone buzzed again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 2: Is that Mac’s dog? Are you dog sitting for him now? IS THAT WHY THERE ARE HEARTS ALL AROUND YOUR FACE ON HIS INSTA? I swear to God Luci if you are late today I will murder you and Jilly will be mad because she will have to represent me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Calm down bitch. Deke and I will be leaving in 15 minutes. Besides I want to pick your brain about a project I’m working on and maybe have you assist me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I left like I said I would and Deke and I walked the few blocks to the hole in the wall pizza joint Jen and I had found a few years ago. There was some outside patio seating and since I had Deke we had to sit out in the heat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god Luci he’s adorable. Is this Mac’s dog?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sat down and Deke curled up under the table and immediately fell asleep. “No he’s my dog. I got him yesterday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jen choked on her water, “You got a dog? He’s huge, you live in that tiny studio, you work ALL THE TIME.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know but honestly Jen, he sleeps 23 hours a day. Besides if I give him back the Interns would riot. There’s a schedule.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You take him to work with you? I didn’t know your office was dog friendly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed and didn’t bother looking at the menu, we got the same thing every time. “It’s not. I’m working on this feel good project for a National Greyhound rescue, so Deke here is kind of like the office mascot. They couldn’t really say no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jen scoffed, “Also Charlie and Brian are the laziest assholes on the planet and they both know if you quit they would have to do stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nodded, “Also true. ANYWAY, I know we are not having lunch to talk about work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My sister just looked at me like I was dumb, “Start at the beginning bitch and we’ll go from there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So for the next 40 minutes I regaled Jen with the goings on of the past week and a half. By the end of it she was speechless and I’d never seen my sister speechless before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We finished lunch talking about the Greyhound Rescue and some ideas I had for mock ups and how she could help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Deke and I left to go back to work my sister was on her phone no doubt updating the entire family about my love life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was well past 9 when we trudged home. I must have looked exactly how I felt because Gerald ran out from behind his desk to open the door for me. “You’re a blessing Gerald. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ms. Smith you had a delivery today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? I’m not expecting anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While I waited for the World’s Slowest Elevator, Gerald fetched the package. It was probably two and a half feet long and rectangular. It also was lime green and said PROFLOWERS along the side in huge letters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Well, Thanks Gerald.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No problem Ms. Smith.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gerald, for the 100th time this week, just call me Luci please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What felt like an hour later, I was finally unlocking my door. I stripped off my clothes and left them in a heap on the floor and pulled on Mac’s shirt before I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I had every intention of just falling into bed. When I came out of the bathroom I saw the box. Mac’s adorable grocery store flowers had finally kicked it and I had tossed them and washed the vase this morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I opened the box looking for a card. “Those other flowers are probably on their last legs, here’s some more so you don’t have to put your grandmother’s vase away.- Mac” Inside the box was the largest bouquet of sunflowers I had ever seen. How did he know exactly what I needed when I needed it? I made short work of clipping the ends off the stems and arranging the flowers in the vase, then I set it on the floor and took a selfie with Deke and the flowers before posting it to my Insta story and tagging Mac. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I set the vase on the island and my phone vibrated almost instantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Did you like them?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Duh didn’t you check your insta? Deke and I love them. Did you order those before you left?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Yeah. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That took thought and effort and I really appreciate it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You made waffles for me on a Sunday. That took thought and effort and I really appreciated it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I had a long day today. I’m going to turn in, but I can’t wait to see you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: This week is going torturously slow, but your apartment is my first stop, you better be ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>Part 6</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac had reposted my story to his own Insta and tagged me in it this time so I awoke to an almost dead battery and more notifications than I could count. One of which was my own father. Dad had created an Instagram? NO good could come of this. I took a screenshot and sent it to the ongoing text group called </span>
  <b>Siblings</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This won’t end well for any of us.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester1: Who taught him how to use his phone? I thought we all agreed that was a bad idea?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just Joshua: I give Dad a month before he’s basically RA from Spittin Chiclets.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: THIS IS A DISASTER. INTERVENTION.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I would literally take all the mean comments about my weight, all the spam accounts trying to message and add me, all of that extra stuff, but the thing that I most wanted to avoid was managing my own damn family if I was going to date Mac. I sent him a quick text on my way out the door to work. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My dad has an Instagram, sorry if he added you/is trying to message you. It’s not fair, but like I’m throwing you to the wolves where my family is concerned. Dad is a BIG DEVILS FAN. BIG. We all grew up watching hockey. Ummm Good luck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I obviously didn’t hear back from him and I was really really hoping it was because he was on some backwoods lake in the middle of Canada and not because my dad sent him a dissertation on why Schneider should be starting goalie instead of Mac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the next two days Deke and I settled into a routine, we hit the dog park for his 3 terrifying laps of zoomies, in the office by 7, home around 9, go to bed and do it all over again. I was getting caught up on literally everything, beating some deadlines even. If I went in on Saturday, I could get everything to a manageable level that maybe I could spend some time with Mac next week. If he wanted to…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deke and I had also settled into a sleeping routine. He slept on my double platform bed with me. And by that, I mean the large greyhound sprawled across the entire surface and I was left to contort myself around his sleeping form because I couldn’t bear to wake him up by moving him to his side of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I awoke Sunday morning, I actually had the majority of the bed with Deke curled into a ball behind my knees. I had no idea when Mac was going to be home, but the dog and I laid in bed for a good half hour while I went through my various social media accounts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yesterday, Jen and I had spent the evening hours in a park taking photos of Deke for the Greyhound Rescue Project mockups. She had apparently taken some candids of us and I had to admit, for a chubby girl, I looked pretty good in the sunset’s golden rays. Mac had already snagged one of those photos and put it on his Insta story tagging me, and giving photo cred to my sister, AND her business, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can’t wait to get home to this girl. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I sent her a text before I scrolled through the rest of the photos she posted.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re gonna owe Mac for all the business he’s sending to you. Next year you’ll probably be the official wedding photographer for the Devils.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: I literally can’t wait to meet him. I’m gonna kiss him. Right on the lips. You can’t stop me. I’ve already booked 2 family portrait sessions, a newborn session, a huge all inclusive wedding package for 2020, and thanks to Deke like 3 pet sessions. I’m gonna have to buy you lunch for the rest of our lives.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to ask him to be on the frontlines of this Greyhound project.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester: Y’all are gonna run out of dogs. If Mac Blackwood told me to adopt a greyhound I’d adopt 4 just for good measure. Can you IMAGINE the press if they make the finals this year?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>JEN. WHY WOULD YOU. Never say that. Do three hail marys to negate your bad karma.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: You just mixed like 4 religions and we aren’t even Catholic. But I will turn counter clockwise in front of a mirror saying Bloody Mary</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re an idiot. I only love you because I’m obligated by blood and genetics.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>My phone vibrated with an incoming text from Mac.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I’m on my way. Those photos from last night were amazing. I’m going to kiss your sister.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s funny, she said the same thing about you. Should I back off and let y’all live happily ever after?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Don’t joke about that. You’re going to be lucky if I bother to shower first before seeing you. Getting on my flight. See you soon!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Xoxoxo</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I went through my Instagram notifications. Thanks to the photos with Deke I had FOUR marriage proposals in my messages. Part of me was secretly glad because even if Mac woke up one day and realized he wasn’t dating the typical WAG shape, there were still regular men out there who thought I was a hottie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Close to 9am Deke started to whine. Inspired by my sister’s photos of me, dating a professional athlete, and on some level, all the versions of “Fuck you, you fat bitch” I had gotten on Insta this week, I put on some shorts, a sports bra, and threw my hair up in a messy bun. Deke and I were going to run to the dog park. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deke and I did </span>
  <b>not</b>
  <span> run to the dog park. It was only 9am but the Jersey air was thick and already 90 degrees. I jogged about 5 steps before I decided Deke and I were going to leisurely stroll to the dog park and possibly catch a Lyft back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I did, however, make myself walk up 10 flights of stairs. Deke would walk up a few and then look back at me waiting for me to catch up to him. Finally, I just unclipped his leash. He’d jet up to the landing of the next floor, lay down and wait for me to pant up to him and we repeated that 8 times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time I made it to my unit, the last thing I wanted to do was clean. There was a literal swimming pool of sweat in the bottom of my sports bra and my hair couldn’t decide if it wanted to be limp thanks to the sweat or frizzy thanks to the humidity. It chose something in between that wasn’t flattering AT ALL. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a resolute sigh, I turned on a playlist that was mostly Destiny’s Child and Britney Spears and started to put my condo back together since it looked like a hurricane had gone through after working a good 70+ hours this week. Three hours later, I had clean sheets on my bed, laundry going, the floors were spotless and Deke was laying on his back, paws in the air, in the middle of his expensive dog mattress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a shower and did the best with my hair. I was going for Rachel Green but I was pretty sure I was just Monica in Barbados. The outfit was a little harder to choose. I didn’t want to look like I was trying TOO hard. I mean Mac said he was coming over but what if he was just going to stop in and say hi? I bit my lip and looked at the lingerie part of my closet. It was minimal. Just a few pieces I had bought a year or so ago when I was dating a perfectly acceptable accountant. He had broken things off with me before I got a chance to wear them. Mr. Missionary said I wasn’t “adventurous enough.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I decided on a black lace bodysuit and I’d wear it under the shirt Mac gave me with some embarrassingly short pj shorts that were probably a size too small. In fact, I didn’t even know if I should bother because you could barely see them under the huge shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had one last chore and that was to take out the trash. Then I was going to be the world’s most pathetic woman and sit and wait for Mac to come home. When I opened the door Mac was standing there ready to knock. True to his word he had his duffle still slung over his shoulder, he hadn’t stopped to shower. His voice was breathy like he’d just run up all 10 flights of stairs. I really hoped that wasn’t the case, because he wasn’t sweating at all. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My voice was breathy too, but because Mac Blackwood was standing in my doorway in a plaid shirt I desperately wanted on my floor and then I desperately wanted to wear while making him breakfast tomorrow morning. Monday be damned… I was taking a personal day if I needed. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence stretched for what felt like years. When Mac’s eyes finally broke from mine, they traveled down my body and when they made it back up, my sweet adorable neighbor boy was completely gone and all that was left was a huge hulk of a man that wanted to devour me whole, and I was sooo going to let him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the aspects of being a goalie is being able to read the ice and the players. To watch the interactions, watch the puck movement and know what is going to happen next. I watched in real-time as Mac saw all the possible plays and settled on the one he knew was going to happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I wanted to wait but that isn’t going to happen.” He grabbed the garbage bag out of my hand and set it outside the door before he crowded into my space dropping his duffel on the floor. Then he was ON me. His lips crashed down on mine and his big hands and long fingers wrapped around my thighs. He picked me up like I weighed nothing at all. But I guess a cargo ship doesn’t stand a chance in a category 5 hurricane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set me on the top of the island, granite cool against my ass and the sunflowers still looking radiant behind me. Mac’s eye caught them and he gave a satisfied grunt as he kissed down the side of my neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands were everywhere, running down his corded arms, sliding over his wide shoulders, and up into his hair. I pulled his mouth back to mine for another bruising kiss. It was open, it was wet, our teeth clanked together and it was just a swirl of tongues. Mac’s hands slid up the outside of my hips, dipping beneath the shirt he gave me when his thumbs encountered the lace he paused, pulling his mouth away and swallowed several times, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He laid his forehead on my shoulder while his thumbs stroked the intricate lace just above the waistband of my shorts. My mother would have not so lovingly referred to it as my ‘muffin top.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luci, if this is what I think it is I’m going to fucking lose it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tugged on his earlobe with my teeth before I whispered, “then lose it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt his breath catch against my neck. His hands sliding up my sides and he gripped all of me. His fingertips gripped every pudgy roll and he yanked me forward so the center of me could feel how hard he was under the zipper of his jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god Mac,” my voice was breathy again and I sounded like a Victorian lady about to faint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers dipped into the waistband of my shorts and he pulled them down, stepping from between my legs so he could drop them on the floor. When he stepped between my thighs against his hands started on the outside of my knees and he slid them all the way up to my hips. He buried his face in my neck. I felt him leave a trail of sucking kisses up to my ear. The bodysuit was cheeky and his hands gripped both globes of my ass. His voice was low and deep and it sounded like a boulder being drug over gravel, “I’ve wanted my hands on this ass since I saw you struggling to open the door of the building.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back a little before undoing a few of the buttons on the plaid shirt and grabbing the back of it and pulling it over his head. His chest was flush even though it was several shades darker than when he left. “You clearly had your shirt off and you didn’t send me ONE picture? Not one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac slid his hand up my sides again and bit his lip before answering, “You were busy all week at work, I didn’t want to distract you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, but what if I wanted to fuck myself on that dildo again looking at a picture of you shirtless?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His nostrils flared, “And that’s why you didn’t get one. I was on a boat, in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of fucking dudes and my brother. If I knew you were doing that…” He trailed off and started sliding his hands higher. “Arms up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My shirt er his shirt, ended up on the kitchen floor with his and I was left sitting on the countertop in nothing but the lace bodysuit which didn’t really do much to hide any cellulite or fat rolls. It was all just out there for him to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac swallowed and his nostrils flared and as he looked up and down my body I could tell he was trying to get control. He was failing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could say anything I was flung in a fireman’s hold over Mac’s shoulder, “Yeah this isn’t going to be sweet and romantic at all and I’m really sorry about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the cargo ship was airborne thanks to Hurricane Mac and I landed on the bed. Deke just lifted his head from his own bed in the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I sat up, Mac was pushing his shoes off and shoving his jeans and black boxer briefs down his massive fucking thighs. Suddenly, he was naked and he was fucking glorious. Roman or Greek or whatever statues had NOTHING on the perfection that was MacKenzie Blackwood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can stare later, while we discuss what a horrible guard dog that is. Get on your knees.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mmm Mac was bossy and judging from the wetness dripping down my thighs, I liked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew his dick was going to be bigger than that dildo I had, but I didn’t realize how much bigger. I didn’t know if I could even fit my hand around it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luci. Knees.” His voice was more of a growl than anything at that point and I felt the rumble shoot straight to my clit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip and got on my knees. Mac slipped his hand in my hair and he gripped my skull and pushed my head down toward his dick. I licked the slit at the top and his fingers curled into my scalp. I stuck my tongue out and swirled it around the glans like I was licking a popsicle and his hips shot forward burying the head in my mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck I’m sorry. I just you’re so hot and ever since I saw that picture on your Instagram I needed you on your knees for me. “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t need excuses. I needed Mac Blackwood’s cock in the back of my throat. I wrapped my hand around the base of him and started bobbing, getting him nice and wet and taking more of him each time. His hand tightened in my hair and soon I felt him pushing my head down just a little bit farther than I wanted to go each time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck this is going to be so short. I’m sorry Luce,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mouth met my hand and I intended to take him a little bit more, but when I let him go, he pushed my head down and his hips shot forward. I gagged around him. He fucked my face in short hard bursts and started cumming down my throat. I struggled to breathe through my nose and swallow all of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could feel myself dripping with need on the duvet cover, so much for washing my sheets. The lace of the bodysuit was abrasive against my clit, but not enough. With my nose pressed against Mac’s abdomen, I slipped a hand between my thighs and pressed the lace into my nub. Oh, fuck yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally pulled out of my mouth he was still hard, a string of cum and saliva dripped down my chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck babe, that was hot, you’re a mess for me.” Mac caught the string of spit/cum with his fingers and wiped them on the duvet cover as he knelt in front of me on the bed. Definitely washing this again tomorrow. He bit his lip when he saw my hand between my legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I make you wet when I fucked your face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t trust my Mac Cock ruined throat so I nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac grabbed my wrist and brought my fingers to his mouth, “but you made me cum, so this is my job.” He sucked them into his mouth. He let go of my wrist and slid one hand down my back, fisting his hand in the material of the bodysuit and he pulled firmly between my buttcheeks. The material slid against my swollen clit and bunched against my asshole, I let out an obscene moan. With his other hand, he pushed his fingers between my pussy lips. I clung to his shoulders trying to stay upright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you are so wet. Is all this for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there were any words contained in the growl he let out, I didn’t recognize them. Mac circled my entrance with his middle finger, gathering lubrication, but he really didn’t need to, I was sopping. His other hand was still fisted in the back of the bodysuit and he worked it between my legs as he slipped his thick finger inside me. Fuck he felt so good and that was just his goddamn finger. He pushed it all the way inside to his last knuckle and twisted it. “Fuck Mac!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled it out and ran two fingers between my legs, coating them, before he pressed them against my entrance and pushed them in to the first knuckle. God, this was just his big fingers. That monster cock was going to kill me. In the best fucking way. If that’s how I died, so be it. Granny Lucille would probably high five me on the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you are so tight.” Mac corkscrewed his fingers inside me and I felt his knuckles rub my pussy lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I made a soft mewling sound and buried my face in his shoulder. He pulled on the bodysuit again and the lace smashed my clit and the material was abrasive against my asshole. The combination of feeling full with his fingers almost sent me careening over the edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac chuckled and I could hear the smile in his voice, “Not yet babe.” He fucked me with his fingers, the slurping sound becoming obscene as he twisted them inside me and scissored them open. I couldn’t form words anymore and I sucked a dark bruise into his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit, that’s hot. Mark me, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My fingernails dug into his shoulders and finally, he gave a hard tug on the bodysuit and pressed his thumb onto my lace-covered clit at the same time. “FFFFUCKKK.” I sobbed into his shoulder and I felt my pussy clamp down on his fingers. My hips humped air as he worked me through the orgasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddamn, Luce.” I felt empty when he pulled his fingers out and the sensation sent an aftershock through my body. His arms came around me and he lay me back on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His arm was my pillow and I felt his cock still hard and wet against my hip. Mac’s hand was casually rubbing my abdomen and it was tugging the bodysuit ever so slightly, causing aftershocks to run through my body as the lace slid across my clit. I shuddered and pushed his hand away, “too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrapped his free arm around me and pulled me into his body, his lips leaving soft kisses all over my face and neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mac that was…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he gave a soft sigh, “Amazing. I knew you would be fantastic, but Luce, I think you’ve ruined me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gave a dry laugh, “we haven’t even fucked yet Mac.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A self-satisfied rumble vibrated against my neck, “I’m gonna fucking wreck that pussy babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt a shiver down my spine. Mac turned his attention to my breasts, running his fingertips over one, my nipple pebbling beneath the lace immediately. He nosed the other one, pushing at it with his tongue when it became erect. He pulled at the bodysuit. “As much as I love this, how does it come off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I undid the tie behind my neck and he sat up to pull it off of my body, then pushed my knees apart and settled between them. I was still sopping wet, my cum leaving a wet spot on the duvet cover. Mac didn’t waste time, two of his fingers found my entrance and he slid them into the last knuckle his mouth closing over my clit at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knifed up, turns out I do have abs buried somewhere in there, “Holy fuck Mac.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He twisted his fingers inside me, tongue flicking my clit, and even though I had JUST cum so fucking hard I saw stars when he slid a third finger inside me and sucked hard on my clit I came undone. I didn’t even know I could scream that loud during sex. Even Deke lifted his head and whined. Mac clamped his free arm over my hips, his three fingers fucking me through the orgasm, lips still vacuumed sealed around my clit and I honestly couldn’t tell if it was one big long orgasm or a series of really hard short orgasms, but it felt like it went on forever. I pushed at Mac’s head when it was too much and he gave one last hard suck for good measure and my back bowed off the bed. His fingers were still inside me and he was moving them around gently, just playing with my cum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You taste so fucking good.” When he finally pulled his fingers out I whimpered. I heard him rustling around but I was too spent to lift my head. Finally, I heard a condom wrapper. Mac reached past me and grabbed one of my numerous pillows and tucked it under my hips. “Missionary isn’t my favorite, but I definitely want to watch your face when I fit this thing inside you for the first time and then when I make you cum on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That adorable shy Canadian boy in interviews was fucking nowhere to be found in this man. “Fuck Mac. I don’t know where this side of you hides, but I’m going to love bringing him out to play.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something that could have been a “Fuck” but sounded like a feral bigfoot came out of Mac’s mouth and his fit his hips between my thighs. The head of him was big and thick and I felt him split my pussy lips. When he found the notch of my entrance he pushed forward and didn’t stop until I closed over his mushroom head. “God you are so fucking tight Luci.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like what I imagine being fucked with the end of Maglight would feel like but I wanted more. I bent my knees and pulled them up causing Mac to sink deeper inside me. He pushed in more and it felt like he was going to split me open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More Mac. I want more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit you are perfect.” He pulled out slowly and pushed deep again. He repeated that until I felt his pubic bone against my clit and his balls against my ass cheeks. “God, you took it all, you took the whole damn thing. I’ve never....”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reached up and pulled Mac down for a kiss, “Can we marvel at the wonder that is my vagina after you fuck me so hard and deep I feel like that monster cock is going to come out my mouth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He buried his face in my neck and groaned, his hips snapping forward trying to sink deeper into me than he already was. I had to put my arms up to brace against the headboard. “This is a terrible time to bring this up, but I’m going to fucking marry you one day Lucille Smith. I’m going to tattoo my name on your ass, I’m going to leave marks on your body, I’m going to let everyone know you’re mine, because after this…” he didn’t finish the sentence. He just slowly drug his dick out of me and slammed into me again. He fucked me like that; slow, but hard until I was a whimpering mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck Mac harder, faster, MORE Goddamnit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He obliged. His hips slapped against the meat of my thighs and he braced himself, his hands on either side of my head. My fingers dug into the headboard as I used it as leverage to keep him from fucking me right into it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck Luci, you need to cum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck Mac, I guess you better make me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Being sassy, that is not helping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you fuck me hard enough I won’t be able to talk, problem solved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac practically snarled as his arms slid underneath me and he sat back on his heels lifting me with him. His muscles bunched under the strain of my weight as he slammed me onto his cock. For the first time in my entire life, I felt small and weightless and I really really wanted to cum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mac fuck me like you mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A noise came out of him that I was pretty sure was normally regulated to bears and his hips punched up as he slammed me down. FUCK YES. FUCK YES. FUCK YES.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GOD YES. MAC. MORE.” My fingernails dug into his shoulders and I was sure I was going to leave bloody crescents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow he leveled it up even more, his powerful body using mine like a fucking rag doll.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luci, touch your clit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I slid a hand down my body and rubbed furiously at the little nub while Mac completely destroyed me. I felt the wave crash over me as Hurricane Mac made landfall. The walls of my pussy clamped down hard on the dick inside me. Mac shouted pure gibberish into my shoulder as he came. His large body curled around mine and we sat there for the longest time, clutching at each other. Finally, I felt him soften and slip out of me and cradling my body he lay me back on the bed again before standing on unsteady legs to make the trip to the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sweat was cooling on my body and I was covered in goosebumps when he returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe you’re cold, come on get under the covers.” He lifted me up with one arm and pulled the duvet over my body, slipping in next to me and wrapping me in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mac?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna have to order in, because I can’t move any of my muscles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed the top of my head and Deke jumped on the bed. The brindle greyhound was eye level with Mac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude you are the shittiest fucking guard dog ever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that Deke flopped down at the foot of the bed and I relaxed against the solid wall of muscle that was Mac Blackwood.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>Part 7</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, we spent the rest of the day in my small double bed, having junk food delivered, and watching movies. I didn’t feel bad eating in front of Mac anymore, mostly because of the vast amounts of calories he could devour made me look like I was eating like a ballerina.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac took to Deke pretty quickly and the reverse was also true, but only because I caught Mac sneaking pieces of cheeseburger to Deke when he thought I wasn’t looking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I told him about the Greyhound Rescue and how that’s what all my late nights were about and then I showed him the mock up ads featuring Deke. I didn’t even have to ask him to volunteer, Mac immediately asked how he could help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We took Deke out for his final potty walk around 10 that night. It was still humid and warm, but a tolerable 75 degrees. We paused under a street light and it took Mac all of 2 minutes to teach Deke how to place his paws on Mac’s shoulders from behind MUCH to my chagrin. I thought it was a horrible idea, but it made a great picture when Mac hooked me around the neck and dragged me in. He posted the picture to insta, not his story. Deke had his paws on Mac’s shoulders sniffing toward the camera like there was a treat and me pulled into Mac’s body looking like I’d honestly just spent half the day fucking him, but whatever. In the caption area he mentioned Deke was a rescue and the fact that Greyhounds were about to be flooding the market. He tagged me, the rescue group, then grabbed my phone and made Deke his own Insta page before tagging that one too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac don’t you have to, like, clear this with your agent and stuff?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We continued our leisurely stroll and Mac grabbed my hand, “Well your fancy advertising firm has already vetted this Non-Profit or you wouldn’t be working on this, so that’s good enough for me. Besides? Cute puppies needing home? My agent is going to write me a thank you note.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t really argue with that, it was true. Before we made it back to our building both of our phones were receiving notifications as fast as we could x them away. I eventually just turned off my phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac made the mistake of posting a photo instead of a story and people could leave comments. He’d been spared the first few times, knowing bad things were being directed toward me but he didn’t realize how bad. It was easy for me to brush off, I had to grow up with my mother making backhanded compliments and then just outright insults, but Mac obviously saw me through rose colored glasses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped before we made it through the front door and started reading them. “Mac, I would just delete them as fast as they come in or close the comments.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face just looked totally stricken, “Is this what you deal with every time I post something? I mean I got some messages but I just turned off my DMs. Mostly, I thought it was just your family giving you shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged. “I got four marriage proposals this morning, so I mean… it evens out. My family does give me shit, but not in a BAD way. Mostly, my dad just wants to talk about hockey and Jen will most definitely want intimate sex details.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci, I can’t even read these out loud they are so awful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed, “Mac. Just turn off the comments and delete the bad ones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He fiddled with his phone for a few moments before sticking it in his pocket. He reached for me, dragging me into his body, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how bad it was. You know I think you are the most beautiful woman ever right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I slid my hand around his back and patted his abs with the other, “I do know that. If I didn’t the three spectacular orgasms would have been a clue.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac kissed the top of my head in the elevator, but he was quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I met another new Mac that night. We got ready for bed and he laid on his back, my head on his chest, a leg thrown over his thigh. I should have been unconscious the minute I put my head down, but there was a tension that wasn’t there before. Eventually, I drifted into an uneasy sleep. I woke up frequently throughout the night and whenever I did, I could tell Mac was awake too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I ended up turning off the alarm before it even had a chance to go off in the morning. Mac had finally fallen asleep and he looked angelic and so young like that. I swept some of the hair out his face, resisting the urge to kiss him. Nature had been calling for a good 15 minutes; I grabbed the plaid shirt off the floor and pulled it over my arms. When I was done in the bathroom, I started the process of making coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a big man Mac, moved with extreme light footed grace. One of his long arms snuck around my waist and he pulled me against his body. He kissed the back of my neck, “Good morning gorgeous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning handsome.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ooh I’m handsome?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Always, you dork.” I tried to turn in his arms but he held me firm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, smile.” He held up his phone and took a selfie of us. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I snatched the phone out of his hand, “Let me see.” The selfie was ridiculously saccharine and I sent it to myself. I swiped back to find the photo from last night and stumbled on a profile of me taken just a few moments before. With the early morning light streaming through the windows, Jen would be jealous Mac took this with his phone. I was standing in his shirt, with a small smile on my face while I filled the coffee pot with water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac snatched his phone back, “That one is just for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned then and put a hand on his chest, his face was sad. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just thinking last night and…” He didn’t finish and stepped back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok?” My heart started thumping like a kick drum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even if we keep this on the DL, Luce, like there are events and stuff where you’d have to go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac, I’m fine with that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but I had NO idea how mean people could be. And I play hockey. Those locker rooms are not fucking sunshine and rainbows.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do I seem upset?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO! And that’s worse! You’re completely tone deaf to this and I can’t… I can’t bring this into you life. I can’t bring this awfulness to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the back of my mind Granny Lucille let out a feral shriek and the coffee pot that was sitting on the warmer shattered. We both jumped a bit and he moved to start cleaning it up, I just held up my hand to stop him. I knew where this was going but I wanted him to say it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac, what are you saying?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m saying I can’t do this. I’m saying YOU may be fine with all the negative comments, but I’m not. And I’m not ok bringing that to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think that should be my choice? They’re saying those terrible things about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but I’m the reason.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what is this? Are you breaking up with me?” My voice was getting really high and I felt like I was free falling down the elevator shaft.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m saying we are neighbors.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“12 hours ago you were balls deep inside me basically said you planned on marrying me. You mean to tell me something this small could change that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac looked uncomfortable, “Look I just I think this best. I can’t watch people say horrible things about the woman I… about you. I can’t watch you get hurt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac right now you are hurting more than any bully calling me fat ever has.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leaning against the island he didn’t say anything and he looked about 6” shorter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get the fuck out of my place Mac.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tension was palpable and after what seemed like hours Mac pushed off the counter and gathered his stuff and disappeared out my door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned to clean up the broken glass and throw it in the trash. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s ok to cry dear.</span>
  </em>
  <span> No Granny, it’s not. So I did what every strong woman does when her heart gets completely ripped out of her chest and stomped on.. I stripped the sheets off my bed, tossed them in the washer, and then got ready for work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: What the fuck is this bullshit?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jen sent me a screenshot of a comment Mac made on his post from last night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am so disappointed in some of the comments on this post. I have a hard time believing some of the greatest fanbase in NHL hockey would say such derogatory things about one of the greatest people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The comments were closed after that so there weren’t any follow ups, but I noticed he hadn’t deleted a single horrible comment. Whatever he was trying to prove I didn’t care and I tapped out a response to Jen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No idea. He broke up with me after this so… I’m not privileged to know what’s going on in his brain.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: WHAT!? Luci, are you ok?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m fine. He’s just my hot neighbor.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t reply and the fact that no one else from my family contacted me meant she had delivered the news and they were giving me space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deke and I went to work, I sent a memo to the appropriate department asking someone to reach out to the Devils organization asking for a player to spearhead the Greyhound Rescue Project, someone not Mac Blackwood. Then I shoved all my feelings into Pandora’s box and buried myself in work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For two days, I left for work before the sun came up, I got home long after most everyone was asleep, and I avoided seeing Mac in the hallways or elevator. On the third day, Gerald stopped me on the way in from work, “You have a package Luci.” He brought out that telltale green ProFlowers box and my stomach sank. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Gerald.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I knew I shouldn’t open it. I knew that there was just one little frayed thread holding me together, but in the same way I read most of the comments on Mac’s post, I needed to know. The sunflowers were looking worse for wear, the water was dirty and growing things, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sigh I set the box on the counter and opened it. Blue Hydrangeas were the flower of the week and they had been Granny’s favorite. The card didn’t have a name, but it didn’t need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t put the vase back on the third shelf.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I knew it was wishful thinking, but I swear I felt Granny Lucille’s hand on my shoulder as I sank to the floor and sobbed. Deke left his bed and laid next to me on the kitchen tile and whined. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When there was nothing left in me but dry shuddering breaths I hauled myself up, tossed the sunflowers in the trash, and left the box of hydrangeas and Mac’s two shirts outside his door. Then I washed and dried Granny Lucille’s vase and stood on a stepstool to put it back in the cabinet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Weeks went by, I didn’t eat, I barely slept, I spent all my time at work, took on two additional projects bringing my total to 8 plus the Greyhound project, which was 5 more than anyone else was working on. Much to everyone’s joy Janet was fired. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I checked Mac’s instagram about once a week, checked his tagged photos. Jen checked more often than that. He hadn’t updated his story or added a new photo since that night. The selfie of our little trio was still at the top of his profile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie stopped by my office one afternoon and hesitantly knocked on the door jam, “Hey Luci, as much as everyone in this department loves having Janet gone, we’re all a little concerned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine Charlie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, well that’s nice, and as much as I enjoy not having to do MY job because you’re doing it, you’ve lost weight, you look like shit, and Deke doesn’t even spend time in this office anymore. He takes turns laying under the interns’ desks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I glanced up from my computer and looked around my office. Every spare surface was covered with paperwork or some art mockup from a project. There was a small path from my door to my desk. Even Deke’s bed was covered with stuff. I gave a tired sigh, “What is your point Charlie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie looked nervous now and tugged at the collar of his shirt even though it was open and he wasn’t wearing a tie, “Brian said you’re not to come into work for at least 3 days. Preferably a week.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shot him a look that would have incinerated him if I had Superman’s laser beam eyes. “Why doesn’t Brian tell me himself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone's a little afraid of you right now and I drew the short straw. Brian said security is instructed not to let you in the building tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><b>He has a point, dear.</b> <span>“Shut up Granny.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie looked a little afraid now and I realized I just answered my dead grandmother outloud. I waved a nonchalant hand, “Fine. I’ll take a few days.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I looked up again Charlie was still standing there, “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just… I have the number for a really good therapist if you….” Charlie ducked as a Devils mug I kept my pens in flew past his head and shattered on the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just gonna….” He slid the card into the clip outside my door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck. Fuck work, Fuck Mac, Fuck Granny Lucille who had become fucking ANNOYING since Mac dumped me and for the next three days I didn’t even have work to use as a crutch which meant I was going to have to pull myself together or find another time suck to bury myself in to avoid my feelings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Part 8</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>MAC</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been 3 weeks and 4 days since I left Luci’s apartment. 3 weeks and 2 days since the last flowers I sent her were delivered and I heard her sobbing in her kitchen. I shattered then into 1000 pieces I didn’t know how to put back together. I thought I did the right thing, I thought I was saving her pain, but hearing Luci, my strong, tough as nails Luci fall apart in her kitchen broke me in a way I didn’t know I was capable of breaking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was also the night that weird stuff started happening in my condo. My keys would get moved. I always dropped them in a bowl by the door, but every day I’d have to hunt for them. I’d come into the kitchen in the morning after not sleeping and every single cabinet door would be open. When I took a shower, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Luci</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be written on the mirror in the steam.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I had no doubt it was Granny Lucille and she was NOT happy. I wasn’t sleeping anyway, but if I could have, the night I saw her sitting in a chair in my bedroom would have cured me of sleep permanently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was working out more than ever and somehow in the worst shape of my life. Every thought, every emotion, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>Granny Lucille</span>
  </em>
  <span> could be driven from my head with a hard workout. It was taking its toll. I was working out harder than ever but food was just fuel I needed to put in my body, I didn’t taste anything so I ate less. I wasn’t sleeping. I couldn’t take in enough calories and protein to rebuild the muscles I was tearing down every day. I wasn’t sleeping to allow them to repair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, I just had enough and I went home to Ontario. Whatever supernatural mojo powered Granny Lucille, she obviously needed to be close to Luci, because finally in my childhood home, surrounded by my family I slept, I ate, I worked out. I stalked Luci and her family on Instagram. I knew it was stupid and insane, but I just needed any Luci fix no matter how small. I spent more than a healthy amount of time staring at the last two photos I had of her. She was wearing my plaid shirt. I suddenly had a lot more empathy for drug addicts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Home was great, but I needed more, I need to work out with the Devils’ trainers, I needed ice time. So back to Jersey I went and here I was on the ice in Newark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, where are you right now?” The voice that permeated my brain fog was PK’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh here? I’m here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you? Because I just shot like 50 pucks at you and you stopped five,” a glance behind me proved his point. The net was filled with pucks. FUCK.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kid, I don’t know what you got going on, but you need to get your brain screwed in straight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I may have a roster spot on the team now, but this season was going to be a battle to prove I belonged there, that I could share the load with Schneids. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sat in the locker room long after everyone had left, still in my pads and skates. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mikey came and sat beside me, we hadn’t really talked about what happened, but he knew enough. “Maybe we should go out tonight? Get a drink?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed, the last thing I wanted to do was go drink, in public… around people but the alternative was sitting at home while Granny Lucille terrorized me. “Yeah man, sounds fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My voice was flat and tired. Mikey patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll text you later dude. Some of the players are doing some charity thing at a microbrewery in a couple weeks and we want to check the place out. Just opened.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got up and left and I was alone again wondering where I went wrong. Scratch that, I knew exactly where I had gone wrong. But if breaking up with Luci was the right and noble thing to do, why did I feel so fucking shitty about it weeks later?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>————</span>
</p><p>
  <span> When I got out of the shower, Luci’s name wasn’t on my mirror but .93 SV% was right there in the middle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been spending too much time with Luci, Granny Lucille.” I heard a cupboard in the kitchen slam and I sighed. Part of me wanted to move. Part of me didn’t want to give up the last link I had to Luci; the ghost of her dead grandmother and a shared wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By some miracle I managed to get dressed and down to this new brewery. I didn’t remember getting there and I didn’t remember ordering, but I was sitting at a table made of brushed steel with my hand around a pint of microbrew and Mikey was talking at me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude did you hear anything I said?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I grimaced, “No, sorry dude.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mikey looked irritated, “Dude, it’s been weeks. You’ve been moping around longer than you knew her. Look, Joey is coming over with some girls, just pick one and get over Luci.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I literally could not think of anything I wanted to do less but the choice was taken out of my hands when Joey came over with the three girls and we all got paired off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was tall for a girl, blonde, and my fingers would overlap if I wrapped my hands around her waist. If I fucked her like I fucked Luci she would snap in half like a dried twig.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, I was so bored. This girl was pressed against my arm so hard it was going numb and I moved it to the back of the booth. I realized my mistake half a second later when pressed her body up against me. FUCK.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t remember if I was on my 1st pint or 3rd, but with how I had been training I was pleasantly buzzed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I heard my name and Mikey and Joey were glaring at me. I’d obviously missed something important.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The girls were going to show us around the campus,” Joey said helpfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked down at the girl that was starfished against my side, “Oh you go to college?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded, “I mean, I will in the fall, but I took some courses while I was finishing up high school.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>HIGH SCHOOL. Each one of these girls had a beer in front of them and I glared at Mikey and Joey who looked equally uncomfortable. Panic gripped my chest, I needed out of here. I leaned down and nudged the girl with my hip, “Can you move? I need to hit the head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I even if I hadn’t seen her walk through the door, Deke in tow, I would have felt the earth stop when she did. Despite the muggy summer air, I felt a chill. I knew what it looked like, the skinny blonde plastered to my side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t sure what hurt worse, the look of horror and shock, or the mask of cool detachment that slid over her features. Oh fuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wrapping my hands around the slender blonde I picked her up and set her on the table so I could slide out of the booth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was walking away from me and my fingers closed around her arm, “It’s not what it looks like Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook my hand off her arm, “It doesn’t matter what it looks like Mac, we’re just neighbors and I have a business meeting.” WIth that she disappeared into the back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the wheels started turning in my head, I must have had a look on my face because people got out of my way. I wrapped a hand around Mikey’s throat and picked him up by it, “What fucking charity event is happening here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa. Blacky, what the fuck!?” Joey climbed over the two girls and grabbed at my arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mikey’s feet were dangling off the ground and he was trying to pry my fingers away from his throat. I knew people were watching and I just didn’t fucking care at the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“MAC, put him down, he can’t answer you if he can’t breathe.” Joey had a point. I set Mikey back on his feet and loosened my grip on his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Growler’s for Greyhounds. Trav was talkin’ about it. What the actual fuck dude?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I dropped my hand and sighed, the girls were fucking gone and the guys were gonna be pissed. “That’s Luci’s project.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh for fucking hell Mac, get your fucking head out of your ass. If you’re such a miserable piece of shit without her why the fuck did you break up with her?” Mikey gave me a shove that set me back on my heels, and Joey followed him into the crowd. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> I stood there for a long time and when I looked around there were a lot of cellphones pointed in my direction. Fuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---------- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The closer the start of the season crawled towards us, the more guys came back to Jersey. There was currently an impromptu scrimmage on the ice, I was in one net and Schneids in the other. I had let in every single puck that came flying at me. If my brain told my body to do something it was doing the complete opposite, I couldn’t see plays, and my body ached all over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had gotten worse that evening at the brewery. PR managed to squash any speculation, but the videos and pictures of me dangling Mikey by his throat were out there. I got reamed by everyone from the coach, the trainers, our PR team, and even the GM. I was on thin ice, my last chance. There wasn’t going to be a demotion to AHL or ECHL this time, I was going to get shopped and if no one was interested, I was going home. Do not pass Go, Do Not Collect $100 straight outta professional hockey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There had been a lot of vague words of encouragement, shoulder pats, fist bumps, and back slaps none of them helped one bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> I don’t remember when the scrimmage ended but the ice was empty when I looked up from the blue paint. Schneids was across my blue line already, “You need to figure this out kid. Talk to a therapist. We are a team and you can’t hang me out to dry this year and I can’t do it all by myself. You know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nodded and flipped up my mask. “Yeah I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what you’re gonna do about it yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, but I’m working on it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You keep sucking this hard and you won’t see preseason, they’ll send your ass down before then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t fucking wrong and I was halfway surprised I hadn’t been sent down already.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was sitting in the locker room, which is how I felt like I spent half my life when PK plopped next to me in his street clothes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey kid, don’t you think you should go home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged one shoulder, “My condo is haunted by my ex girlfriend’s dead granny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows shot up underneath his hat, “This is worse than I thought. You must have been with her for a long time if you’re this broken up about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave a dry hollow laugh, “Like… two weeks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other man pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose, “Two weeks… Kid, we both have something to prove this season we gotta get you right. You got lady troubles and I happen to have a pretty awesome one at home. Come over for dinner and we are going to hash this out tonight and you are going to tell us the entire story.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t really want to dump my problems and what I suspected what was ultimately my own stupidity at my teammate’s feet, but he wasn’t the type that was going to take no for an answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s how I ended up sitting across from an Olympic Gold Medalist as she told me what I suspected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You just spent a half an hour telling us how great this girl is, how motivated and strong and successful she is, and then you’re telling me that you broke up with her when she demonstrated how strong she was?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I swallowed and rubbed the back of my neck, “Those things were awful, ya know, and I didn’t want, ya know, to bring that to her. It would have torn her down eventually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lindsey wrinkled her nose and looked over at PK. “No offense babe, but he’s an idiot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older man just looked at me and I shrugged, “She’s right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look Mac, I’m an Olympic athlete, you know how many negative comments or messages I get in a day? Dozens. I get comments about my training videos, I get comments about doing red carpet stuff. How I look, I’m too fat or two thin, I should smile more, I should smile less, what I I eat, how often I eat. Everyone has an opinion about me and that’s not just because I’m a public figure, that’s just life as a woman. I was a white woman dating a black man in Tennessee, it’s 2019 and people still have stupid opinions about that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pulled out my phone and opened Instagram and showed the controversial post to Lindsey, “If people were willing to say this stuff where I could see it, I can’t even imagine what she saw.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lindsey read through the comments and then flicked through my camera roll, “She’s gorgeous Mac. I mean, she’s not what hockey guys normally date, but I’m not either. And all this stuff, is just normal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was dumbfounded, “What? Like that stuff is horrible, one chick called her the c word.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac this is literally the human experience as a woman. I don’t know what to tell you. Was she bothered at all by it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um no not really, she kind of just shrugged off like you’re doing. She was more concerned about her dad sending me messages.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So when faced with adversity, she was rock solid, but mean people on the Internet hurt your feelings and you crumbled like a little baby?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took a swig of beer before answering, “Harsh, but accurate.” I paused as the pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place, “Oh… I fucked up. I mean I suspected I did, but this is big. I fucked up big.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lindsey leaned back in her chair, “Yeah, yeah you did. You told her you liked her for how strong she was and then dumped her the minute she demonstrated that strength.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I spun the beer bottle in my hands and started peeling at the label, “It gets worse.” I proceeded to tell them about the girl in the bar that preceded the incident with Mikey.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit. That’s what that was about?! Hashtag Yikes kid…” PK grabbed our empty plates and took them back into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lindsey sighed, “So you told her you liked her, told her she was beautiful, broke up with her when people said she wasn’t, then the next time she saw you, you were wrapped up with a woman completely her opposite?” She let out a sharp laugh, “Boy you are FUCKED.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt close to tears and I swallowed, when I spoke my voice cracked, “I’m pretty sure I can’t live without her. What do I do? How do I fix this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The olympian looked a little sad, “You make an effort, you make a grand gesture, you grovel your ass off and if she still says no, you figure out how to keep living.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My panicked look must have shown on my face plain as day because PK reached across the table and clapped me on the shoulder, “Don’t worry kid, I have a few ideas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This lead to a heated text exchange with Jen in which I was told no less than 15 times how much of an idiot loser I was and I broke her sister’s heart, but she was game to help me fix it. I wanted to make this grand gesture at the Growler’s for Greyhounds event and it was going to take an act of God and a crowbar and some serious soul baring to my idols in the league to make it happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I got home that night I felt a small light inside me flicker to life, hope. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Granny Lucille was sitting in the chair and as I laid in bed I told her how much of an idiot I was and my master plan to win back her granddaughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Granny, you better keep this a secret,” but she was gone from the chair when I looked up. For the first time in over a month I got a full night’s sleep. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>Part 9</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac breaking things off may have been the best thing that had ever happened to my career. This Greyhound Rescue Project was becoming a taming of the beast and I was now working with the New Jersey Devils organization. One of their people had suggested a ticketed event partnering with a new microbrewery that was opening in the area. It was two weeks away and already sold out. 500+ tickets at $40 a pop gained a person access to the event in which several Devils players would be available for autographs and photos. Inside 25% of pint sales and 50% of Growler sales would go to the total tally. We were calling it Growlers for Greyhounds. I was meeting with the owner today to iron out a few details. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t expecting it, but the world screeched to a halt when I saw him, arm around some girl who looked about 12, and was tall and blonde; his head intimately dipped toward hers. It had been weeks and I knew I shouldn't feel this way still, but seeing him like that cut through the wall I put around myself like a hot knife through butter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He must have felt my presence because he looked up and the panic in his eyes was clear. Whatever. You know what? Mac Blackwood could do whatever he wanted with some tall skinny blonde and it didn’t matter. I had dogs to get adopted. I felt the mask I had been wearing since he left my apartment that day slide into place and Deke and I marched back toward the office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt the electric zing of his fingers shoot down my arm as he grabbed it. It wasn’t fucking fair he could still do that to me. “It’s not what it looks like Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shook his hand off of me, I couldn’t think when he was touching me,  “It doesn’t matter what it looks like Mac, we’re just neighbors and I have a business meeting.” He didn’t follow me into the back and part of me was incredibly sad about that. He didn’t even fight for me, for us. Just one little perceived hiccup and *poof* he was gone. Thankfully, the owner was running late because it took me 15 minutes to compose myself into someone that intellectually talk about this program and the event. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don’t know if it was because of my hours, divine intervention, or the fact that Mac never appeared to be home, probably staying with his new girlfriend, I never ran into him in the hall or elevator. My luck however, ran out. A week before the Growlers for Greyhounds event I decided to take a half day off and get some laundry done, clean my place and just generally get my life together before the final push before the event. The elevator doors were almost closed when a large hand, one I was intimately acquainted with, stuck through and the sensors opened the doors again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took some comfort in the fact that he also looked terrible. He had gotten a lot leaner, his eyes sunk into the dark circles on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minutes stretched by as we just looked at each other. Mac was the first to break the silence, “I think I fucked up Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard not to scoff.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I was doing the right thing, but if it was the right thing then I wouldn’t be this miserable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed, “Mac you can’t undo it, you can’t turn back time. It’s done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran his fingers through his hair which was too long and hung limply like he took too many showers, but didn’t wash it enough.  His eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them puffy, like he had been crying and I felt for him a little, I’d shed way too many tears over this boy the past few weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was too hard, too many times over the past month had I wished for Mac to come to his senses, but now that it seemed to be happening, I couldn’t. I couldn’t open myself up to that hurt again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac I…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please Luci. Please just let me try?” His voice cracked and I felt tears burn the back of my eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac, you destroyed me. I don’t know that I can risk that again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The big man sank to his knees right there in the elevator. “I destroyed myself. I was fucking idiot. Granny Lucille has been haunting me for weeks. I wanted someone beautiful and strong and in the end I was the weak one. Please. Please just let me try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wanted to go to him, to wrap him in my arms and kiss him and it took everything not to. “Mac…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wanted anything that would just make that hurt go away, but just taking him back didn’t seem like that would do it. “I don’t know. You really hurt me. It was out of the blue and then I saw you with that girl who… is literally everything I’m not..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was strong and vehement, “she was nothing. She was just a tag along for the girls Joey and Mikey were with. She was nothing. I don’t even remember her name because I was so bored just listening to her talk and all I wanted was you. Luci, all I ever want is just you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, a fact permeated my brain fog, “Wait… Granny Lucille has been haunting you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac sighed and sat back on his heels, “Yeah for weeks. She moves my keys, she opens all my cupboards, she’s a menace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I put my hands on my hips, feeling a little defensive of my old dearly departed granny, “How do you know it’s her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac rolled his eyes, “She writes your name on my bathroom mirror every time I take a shower and she sits in my corner of my room every night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah well, could be any old ghost,” I shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luce, she looks just like you. Or… when you’re 80 you’re gonna look just like her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A dry laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Yeah well, the way I’m going you won’t have to wait long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed again, “She’s beautiful Luce, was beautiful and it would be a privilege to grow old with you and watch you age so gracefully.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? Thankfully, the world’s slowest elevator finally arrived, “I’ll consider it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deke and I darted out of the elevator leaving the big goalie on his knees. When we were safely inside I leaned against the door and sank to the floor. All I wanted for weeks was for Mac to apologize, to say he was wrong, and he was. Now he was doing exactly that, I didn’t know what to do. I was still sitting on the floor of my entryway when he opened his door a few minutes later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pulled my phone out and did what I always did when I didn’t know what to do; I texted my sister. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mac just caught me in the elevator.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: NO</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester 2: What did he look like? Did he look like shit? What did he say about that hoebag he was with at the brewery?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He looked like I feel, so like shit. He’s lost so much weight Jen. The puck will tear through him like tissue paper. He said he fucked up. He thought he was doing the right thing, but if it was the right thing it shouldn’t hurt so bad, we shouldn’t be this miserable. She was nothing. I don’t know. I know what I saw.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: Huh so he does have a brain. I was wondering. Big dumb idiot. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What do I do Jen?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: What do you want to do?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bang down his door and jump into his arms and hug him and cry about how horrible my life is without him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: Well I’m not saying that’s off the table, but maybe let’s make him grovel a bit. It’s good for a man to grovel. Gives him character. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ve been talking to Granny Edna. What makes you think he will grovel?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: Bish please. If he looks as awful as you say he looks, he’s gonna want to do anything. He’ll grovel. Granny Edna hasn’t made it to 82 by being dumb. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mac says Lucille has been haunting him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: WHAT. You’re the only one she’s ever haunted!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know. He said he saw her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: He could be lying.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Said I looked just like her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: HOLY SHIT HE SAW HER. Damn I wonder what that crafty woman is up to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Knowing Granny L? NO GOOD.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: Whatever. She was a goddess. I miss her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me too. Her haunting is not the same.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: I don’t even get that. Josh and Jill swear to this day she was in your room standing at the foot of your bed the night Mom and Dad called us to tell us she passed, but you were already sleeping. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I finally hauled my butt off the floor. Granny Lucille always said it was fine to be sad for awhile, but then you had to dust yourself off and keep on keepin’ on. Granny was full of wise one liners.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time in weeks, I had the energy to get things done, a lightness that wasn’t there before. I didn’t understand if that meant I was getting closure by Mac also being miserable, or if I saw the light at the end of the tunnel and maybe Mac and I would be ok. Regardless, I cranked my favorite country playlist on Spotify and cleaned my apartment between loads of laundry for the first time in weeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a few short hours my bed linens were changed, the kitchen was spotless, I could eat off the floor if I wanted and I was staring into my empty refrigerator. Food hadn’t been a huge priority for the past few weeks, but suddenly I was ravenous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like fate, but I had no doubt it was Granny Lucille when someone knocked on my door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac, I said I would consider….” It wasn’t Mac. It was a food delivery person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guy looked slightly uncomfortable, “I um.. Have a food delivery for Luci?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh umm that’s me, but I didn’t order anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am honestly, I don’t care, I just deliver the food. It’s paid for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh well, then Ok. I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shoved bag after bag into my hands. “Holy shit this is a lot of food.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, after four bags he seemed done, “Hold on let me get my purse I can tip you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Already done ma’am. Have a nice night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh umm ok.” I started to set every single styrofoam box on the counter and I stopped counting at 8. It was sushi and every box had a Princess Bride quote written inside the lid.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.”</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cynics are simply thwarted romantics.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“As you wish...” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There have been five great kisses since 1642 B.C...(before then couples hooked thumbs.) And the precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy.... Well, this one left them all behind.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They went on and each one made me smile a little more. I wondered if the person who had to do this was a fan of the movie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as I was so full of sushi I thought I would burst, my phone buzzed on the counter. It was a name I hadn’t seen on my phone in weeks. I hadn’t had the courage to delete him or our text message thread, that felt too real. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You’ve lost weight, you’re too thin, eat up.. And uh.. If you need help I’m just next door.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed through a faint smile. I missed this.. I missed him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I said I would CONSIDER it Blackwood. Don’t push your luck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though I had eaten until I felt sick, there was SO much left over. I packaged it all back up and snuck outside my condo to leave it at his door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What’s leftover is outside your door. You don’t look so hot yourself. Dad and I have a bet. He thinks Schneider will start the season, my money is on you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: You bet on me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Always.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I heard a slam from next door and then it was quiet. Granny Lucille put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I knew if I reached up, there wouldn’t be anything there. But I heard her. </span>
  <b>He’s crying dear.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck. I didn’t need to know that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it was better when you couldn’t talk to me Granny L.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Typical Granny she didn’t answer. Only spoke when it suited her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That feeling… the longing to run next door and hold him and kiss him and tell him it would all be ok, came back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac didn’t text me the rest of the night, nor did he reach out the next day and I felt myself reaching for my phone more often to see if there was a missed call, a missed text, a missed notification from him at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> It was difficult to focus on work and for the first time in weeks I put my work aside and set to organizing my office. This included multiple trips to supply closets, at least 2 triples to Staples, and the mess seemed to get worse before it got better, but at the end of the day each project had a binder, which was on a shelf, I could see my floor, walls, and Deke’s dog bed. I even set up and turned on the little Scentsy scented wax warmer/light my sister had given me for my birthday months ago. It was casting a beautiful multi colored glow over my office and the calming scent of lavender was wafting out of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Charlie walked by he did a double take, “Who are you and why is Luci not here and what happened to her office?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged, “I needed to get organized. I’m going to answer some emails and then I’m going home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie looked dumbfounded, “But it’s only 5:30? WHO ARE YOU?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked a little sympathetic then, “I know and while your unabashed work ethic, at literally the expense of your health and sanity was amazing for this department, maybe you should work more regular hours? Except for tomorrow. Tomorrow I need you in by 7.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave him a curious look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have another meeting and the Devils players are supposed to be recording the radio spots for they Greyhound Project, you’ll have to be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed, “Then I really am leaving in half an hour. Have you seen my dog?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie shrugged, “I’m pretty sure he took the elevator up to HR.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He knows how to use the elevator now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He does when Linda is with him.” Charlie gave me a wink and left my doorway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sent an email to Linda, the director of HR, asking for her to please put my dog back on the elevator and send him down to my floor, then I put out a few fires. Even though I had threatened to leave, it was well after 6 before Deke and I made our way into the parking garage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gerald was at the front desk as usual and when he saw me he disappeared into the back and came out with the familiar green box. “Haven’t gotten one of these in awhile ma’am,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took the box and a feeling that was an unidentifiable spread through me. Dread? Joy? Jread? I had plenty of time to think about it as Deke and I rode the World’s Slowest Elevator to the 10th floor.  But the feeling was still a mystery when I unlocked my condo and set the green box on the island. I knew who they were from, I just didn’t know if I wanted them or not, what they meant to him or to me, how I wanted this to go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sighing I opened the box and inside was the most massive bouquet of white gerbera daisies I had ever seen. It was my secret favorite flower. No one knew except… Granny Lucille. She had been there the day I declared them my favorite and my mother poo-pooed “No dear, daisies are so simple. You must go with something timeless and classic, roses or orchids, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I must have been about 7 at the time and Granny Lucille had leaned down next to me, “Your mother wouldn’t know class if it bit her in the ass. Daisies are a fine favorite flower.” I had to stifle a laugh. My granny just used the word ASS. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I smiled at the memory and picked the card up out of the box. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Granny Lucille is insistant these are your favorites. Please forgive me. - Mac</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>P.S. You know where to find me if you need to get the vase off the third shelf.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That cheeky little bastard, I had bought a step stool and damn Granny, she knew I would keep those daisies and not throw them out. I didn’t like being manipulated by a woman that had been dead for over 12 years. Wasn’t there anything better to do in the afterlife? </span>
  <b>Not really</b>
  <span>.  For fucks sake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I grabbed the little stool from where I kept it folded by the fridge and set it up. The vase was at the very back. I don’t even remember putting it back that far. I still couldn’t reach so I climbed up on the counter, my foot caught the step stool and knocked it down. Naturally. Ugh. If I stretched really tall on my knees I could just grab it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Several things happened simultaneously at this point, Mac busted into my condo, dripping wet from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist; the bottom of the vase caught on the serving platter in front of it, and I lost my balance and started to fall backwards. I saw my death clearly, I fell clutching the crystal vase to my chest and smacked my head on the corner of the island and I bled out alone in my kitchen. But that’s not what happened, Mac caught me in his arms and all of me was pressed against a dripping wet goalie. The vase was still clutched to my chest and the serving platter crashed to the floor and shattered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I started laughing hysterically and Mac just held me to his body tighter. “Luci baby, are you ok?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My shoulders shook and I was pretty sure I snorted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci,” Mac’s voice was now a growl and he didn’t seem to find this all as amusing as I did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Granny Lucille hated that platter. My mother gave it to her a Christmas gift one year and I know for a FACT I haven’t used it since I put the vase away. So it shouldn’t have been in front of the vase. Why are you wet? Better why are you here? And wet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” His voice was a whisper against the top of my head, “If she wasn’t already dead I would kill her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci, how did that platter get in front of the vase? Do you want to know why I sent you flowers? Because someone has been drawing them all over my bathroom mirror. Do you want to know why I’m here and wet? Because someone turned off the hot water, I heard a scream, and my bathroom mirror SHATTERED.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Granny Lucille was starting to take some serious liberties, but I almost died and somehow my response to that shock was hilarity. I started to sing the Ghostbusters theme before I dissolved into hysterics again. “Who you gonna call!? Ghostbusters!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac just held me and I don’t know how long we stood there,. How he held me that long, lord knows, I’m not as light as a feather, but he did. He held me with his face pressed against my hair. Finally, I became intimately aware that I was being held against a wet, naked hockey player; one that I had some definitely mixed feelings for.  It felt so good to be cradled against his body like this, it felt right, like I was coming home after being miserable for a month. And I was, I mean, I HAD been miserable for a month. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My voice came out as a whisper, “Mac, you need to put me down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If anything his arms got tighter, “But I don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I put a hand against his chest, which was a huge mistake because I could feel his heartbeat beneath my palm and it was racing when his breath hitched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, I looked up at him and his eyes were filled with tears that threatened to spill over, “Please don’t make me let you go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hair had gotten long and I pushed it back from his face, “You have to, you’re barefoot and I have to clean up the broken plate. You can’t cut your foot. It could get infected and then you wouldn’t be able to start the season and my dad would win $100.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was his turn to give a bark of wry hysterical laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac put me down so I can clean this up and get some shoes for you please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t release me completely, but dropped my legs and let me slide down his body until my feet touched the floor. He kept his arm around my back and pressed me flush against him. His free hand took the vase and set it on the island before sliding under my hair and his long fingers wrapped around the nape of my neck. His thumb tilted my chin and he pulled me up on my toes to meet his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kiss was soft and the line we were flirting with was delicate. Mac was letting his emotions control him for once and I knew if I gave one inch I’d be on my back with him balls deep inside me before I could blink. I broke the kiss, “Mac…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed and let me drop back down on my heels. Then a smug grin slowly spread across his face, “You were getting the vase, you’re gonna keep the flowers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My jaw dropped, “That just fucking occurred to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His massive shoulders rolled forward in a shrug, “I was too busy saving you from Granny Lucille’s horrible matchmaking fiasco.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was my turn to sigh and without realizing it I slid my arms around Mac’s back and laid my ear against his bare chest. His heartbeat had slowed considerably, but just hearing the strong thump of it was comforting to me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he spoke again I felt the words though his chest rather than heard them, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I let his naked torso go and stepped back, “Granny Edna thinks you should grovel more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A ghost of a smile flickered across Mac’s face, “She’s right. I need to grovel a lot more. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you. For making you cry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His entire energy and life seemed to retreat inside him and he seemed to shrink a few inches. This time I didn’t stop myself from comforting him, I pressed my body against his and stood on my toes to press my lips against his. His long arms tightened around me and he slanted his lips against mine to deepen the kiss. I couldn’t stop the little mewl of pleasure this time and Mac’s response was to run his tongue along my bottom lip. Shit. I wanted to climb him like a goddamn tree. How did I go from completely devestated to wanting him to fuck my brains out in less than 24 hours?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sucked his tongue into my mouth and I felt him start to harden against my belly, suddenly very aware he was just wearing a towel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Mac this time who broke the kiss and pulled back, “Luce…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re right,” I nodded, “Let me um… let me clean up this plate.” Grabbing the dustpan and broom from the utility closet near the fridge, I swept up the pieces. It hadn’t shattered, thank god, but broke into fairly large pieces. I dumped them in the garbage under the sink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe go around the other side of the island when you leave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac did the counter lean in his goddamn towel, his dick still half hard underneath it, “Kicking me out already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I arched an eyebrow at him, “You’re wearing a towel. I need to get these flowers in that damn vase which I’m tempted to take to Goodwill, DID YOU HEAR ME GRANNY. GOODWILL YOUR WEDGEWOOD CRYSTAL VASE. But like maybe you could have some dinner delivered and we could watch a movie?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s grin was so huge you would have thought I told him he was next season’s starter or something. He pulled me into his body roughly and his lips slammed onto mine. I couldn’t help the throaty moan when he licked his way into my mouth. That just made him bolder and both of his hands palmed my ass through my slacks. He jerked me against his now raging erection and I let out another involuntary moan. God, my body wanted Mac. Wanted all of him repeatedly, for hours. But my brain was still all torn up about it. I ran my hands up his arms and shoulders, up his neck and finally into his wet hair and I fisted my fingers in it and pulled him away from my face, “I can’t Mac, not yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His breathing was harsh, “I just want to make you feel good Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh god and he would. He would make me feel so good. “I just can’t yet. Doing that feels like I’m just accepting everything and it’s ok and it wasn’t, it isn’t, I... we hurt for a long time because of your decision. I know you were trying to do the right thing, but that doesn’t excuse it from being the wrong thing. Does that make any sense?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slid his hands up my back and wrapped me in a bear hug, “Yeah, Luce. It makes perfect sense. Give me like 45 minutes then why don’t you and Deke come over to my place. Your couch is too small for me to lay down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed the top of my head and walked around the opposite side of the island before going out of the door that was still open. That towel clung to his ass and I used a hand to fan myself. Why wasn’t I going to have sex with him again? Oh right. He completely shredded my heart and for the past month I lived as a shell of a person and he needed to prove he was worthy again. Right. But… maybe. No. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>I’ve never seen a backside that fine.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OH MY GOD GRANNY.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>What? I’m dead. What are you going to do about it?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had a point. “It’s a hockey player thing. Skating is awesome for the glutes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You should sleep with him.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GRANNY. That’s not going to happen and we need to have a serious discussion about your BOUNDARIES.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>What you’re fine. I knew that young man would catch you. I’m dead. I know everything. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>I will call the Ghosthunter people. I will do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t answer, but then I guess she felt properly chastised and wasn’t going to stick around for more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>45 minutes later, I vacuumed my kitchen and mopped it in case any pottery shards had escaped and I was getting ready to knock on Mac’s door with Deke’s dog bed under my arm. I had thrown my hair into a messy bun and pulled on some leggings, a cute lace bralette, a loose white tank top that was so worn it was almost transparent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac opened the door before my hand touched it, he was still shirtless and had some jeans that were hanging low on his hips. I’d seen him wear this pair before and they hadn’t been this loose. He grabbed the dog bed from me, “I guess I need to get one of these for him huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I frowned, “I don’t know why you would, he’s my dog.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you’re a package deal and things aren’t great now but they won’t be like this forever, and I want my girlfriend to spend time over here and that means her dog will be here to.. Are you following what I’m sayin’ here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I just sighed, “Aren’t you putting the cart before the horse?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No… I just know I’m going to be excellent at groveling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac had a huge open floor plan condo with windows down the length of it. There was a small entrance which opened into a massive living room. There was a huge TV on one wall with every gaming system known to man, and a big L shaped couch and his big kitchen on the other side of it. The bedrooms were one after another down a long hallway so each bedroom had at least one massive window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring his dog bed, Deke climbed onto one end of the nice leather couch and promptly curled into a ball.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to tell him to get down, but Mac stopped me, “It’s fine Luce, he’s fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac dropped Deke’s dog bed near the coffee table, “Do you want something to drink? I ordered Indian, it should be here soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The delivery guy knocked and Mac got that little gleeful look on his face that everyone gets when you’re talking about food and it magically arrives. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>30 minutes later, Mac was laying on the couch surfing through Netflix after devouring 3 huge plates of food and I was finishing my one and only plate. I stood up from where I was sitting in front of the coffee table and grab the plates to take them to the kitchen. When I walked back to the living room, Deke was stretched out on his back along the short side of the L shaped couch and all six and a half feet of Mac was taking up the long side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I picked my phone up off the table and snapped a picture. My big dumb boys. “So where exactly am I supposed to sit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac lifted his head to look at me and then looked back behind him at Deke with a smile on his face. “There’s a secret spot, come here I’ll show you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does this couch have like a little secret seat that pops out or something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I was close enough, with those wicked fast goalie muscles, Mac snagged me around the waist with his arm and pulled me down on top of him. “Something like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I let out a little yelp, “Mac! No! Mac! I’m gonna crush you!” I let out a little “oof” when I landed on him, but he seemed unfazed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac. I’m too..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lifted his head from the pillow again and his voice was hard, “If you say some variation of the word fat or heavy or big I’m going to lose my absolute shit Luci. You are fucking perfect. Now relax and let’s pick something to watch. His free arm locked around my waist and he flicked through stuff on Netflix with the other hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed and rested my head on his chest, “The new season of Queer Eye came out a few weeks ago. I haven’t gotten a chance to watch it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s chest rumbled and I felt his words rather than heard them, “I freaking love that show. Queer Eye it is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My shoulders shook with a little laugh and Mac lifted his head again and looked mock outraged, “You think that’s funny?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A little. I’ve seen you literally leave the building in cutoff sweatpants, no shirt and slides MacKenzie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should nominate me for the show then.” Mac started an episode and put the remote down on the table, bringing that hand to my hip when he was done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I snorted, “Are you kidding me? I’d never get you back. They would steal you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s arms tightened around me. “I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His skin was warm, I could hear the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in over a month I felt calm, like this was where I was supposed to be and everything else was just a bad dream. I didn’t even make it through one episode before I was asleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don’t know what time it was but I was in a soft bed, the sheets smelled like Mac and there was a warm body making the bed dip and I rolled towards it, “Mac?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shhh Luce, I just took Deke out, I’m here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmk.” I burrowed into Mac’s chest and was completely unconscious again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Part 10</b>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an annoying noise and it was dragging me out a sleep so deep it might as well  been a coma. I was burrowed under a duvet that wasn’t mine, my legs were tangled with someone else’s but I felt Deke’s body behind my back. I was warm and everything smelled like Mac. My wall of warm started to move and I made a little noise of protest. The annoying beeping stopped and I felt lips on my head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci, babe I need to get up, but you can stay and sleep as long as you like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Words were hard, “wha’ time ‘s’it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“6:30.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“6:30!” I knifed up into a seated position fighting the duvet and Mac’s extra limbs, how did he have so many arms and legs? Was he a goddamn spider?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“SHIT. I have to be AT work in half an hour.” I started climbing over the covers and Mac but he snagged me around the waist and twisted and suddenly half of my body was underneath his and I was looking up into his face. I could feel him hard against my hip and I was still wearing my clothes from last night but I was pretty sure he was completely naked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He started to lean down to kiss me and I put my hand over my mouth, “Nooo morning breath.” His long fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pulled it away and pinned it to the bed by my head, “Don’t care.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His kiss was brief, soft, and gentle then he buried his face into the side of my neck. He didn’t even bother to hide the face he was breathing me in, smelling my hair. I hoped I was little more subtle when I did the exact same thing, but I had doubts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac I have to go to work. Your teammates are doing radio spots for my event next week.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had been holding his weight off me with one arm but he collapsed on top of me and squeezed a lot of the air out of my chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Blackwood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just Mac is fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That joke gets less funny each time you use and that’s amazing because it wasn’t that funny to begin with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac just snorted into my hair. “Who all is doing it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm Kevin, PK, Miles, and Travis.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to do it. Wait I thought Schneids was in on this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac it’s too late, I’ve been working with these guys on the campaign for weeks. And he is, but we did his a couple days ago because of a scheduling conflict.” I gave a feeble shove to his shoulder. “I have to go to work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave me a bruising kiss this time all tongue and teeth and I panicked about morning breath for half a second before I lost myself in it and moaned. His dick twitched against my hip and I knew one moment longer and we would both be naked and no one would see us for the next few days. I pushed on Mac’s shoulder again and he let me escape this time, but didn’t assist my struggle out from under him, or over the covers and his body in any way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I finally was free of the bed I turned around to see Mac with the sheets bunched around his waist, one arm behind his head and he had a slight smirk on his face. I couldn’t help myself and I kissed him again, “No one should have the right to look as fucking hot as you do right now, Blackwood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to leave because I’m half a second from dragging you back into this bed with me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gave him a final peck on the lip, “Deke! Let’s go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I managed to slide into my office just after 7:15 with wet hair in a Devil’s shirt and jeans; looking a little more casual than someone who was handling 8 big time ad clients should. Charlie stopped by the minute my butt hit my chair, “Hey I’m heading out, you’re good with the radio spots today right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I waved him away, “I’m fine, I’m heading over in a few.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both my dad and Josh had been blowing up my phone knowing that I was meeting with the players today. So much so I almost missed a text from my sister on the way out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: I need to borrow Deke for the day.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What’s up?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: A couple wants to use a dog during a newborn shoot and the only dog I know that will lay there and not move is Deke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sure, I’m on my way out, but I’ll leave him in my office and let the interns know you’re coming by to grab him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I answered some emails and on a whim I took a selfie and sent it to Mac.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Looking a little less than professional to meet your teammates today. Hope they don’t mind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Tell them I’m the reason why and maybe they’ll keep their filthy mitts off of my girl.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mac…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Stop arguing. You’re my girl end of story.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I decided to let it go, because really, had I ever stopped being his girl? No. No I sat there in my heartbreak and misery and I didn’t even try to move on because there wasn’t a point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doing?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: Working out so I can get your dad to pay you $100.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sent him an emoji of mock outrage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What no sweaty pic for me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a long pause and finally Mac sent one and it was clearly old. He was about 20lbs heavier and his hair was shorter. In fact, I was pretty sure it was from a month ago. Why wouldn’t he just take a new one? Unless he wasn’t actually working out and was in fact doing something else that he didn’t want to tell me about. Mac hadn’t lied to me before and it put a sour taste in my mouth and I couldn’t help but think of the tall skinny blonde he had been with at the brewery. It was stupid and there was a probably logical explanation. Maybe he just didn’t want to take a pic or something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I left Deke snoozing upside down on his dog bed. His lips had succumbed to gravity and it looked like he was giving a sinister smile. I snapped a photo for his Insta while I rushed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I thought I was a consummate professional, but all that kind of goes out the window when you realize you slept naked with the teammate of the guys you’re supposed to be guiding through the radio spots and Lindsey Vonn looks like she’s trying to peel back your skin and figure out what makes you tick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guys were however, totally professional, and upon hearing my dad and brother were blowing up my phone, offered to facetime with them. There was a lot of hockey talk with at least three big hockey players surrounded my phone and I sat next to Lindsey on an uncomfortable looking couch. I was startled when she spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re the girl that has the baby goalie all twisted in knots.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know what to say. First of all, I guess Mac talked about me? Second of all an OLYMPIAN knew who I was?! “Um I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I give you some advice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged, if an international champion was going to give me advice I would at least listen to it. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When he’s done making it up to you, forgive him. He’s a mess… and an idiot. Mostly, an idiot but a sweet one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nodded, “I agree. He’s like a really really dumb dog. He’s cute, he wants to do the right thing, but he didn’t see the screen door and ran right through it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lindsey laughed, “Exactly! That’s exactly it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she spoke again, “These guys, they get so used to hockey, they can eat right, workout, train, they can talk to the media, they can handle the locker room but they make a lot of money really fast and they don’t actually get a dose of the real world. One day that kid is going to mess up. He’s gonna get the yips, something and the real world will come crashing down on him and he will rely on you to help him navigate it, to be his strength. One day you’re going to have to carry him and he will understand how strong you are, but until then he’s probably going to mess up at least a few more times.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed, “I can only do that if he doesn’t shut me out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We both watched the guys talking animatedly into my phone and I could hear my dad and brother freaking out on the other side of the screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was awhile before she spoke again, “Hey that photographer that took those photos of you and your dog, do you think I could get her contact info? I’d like to see about doing a shoot with Lucy the dog.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I laughed, “That photographer is my sister and she will fall over herself trying to get you into her schedule. I have one of her cards in my purse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guys were suddenly quiet and PK came over and handed my phone to me, “Our Goalie is sending you workout selfies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I answered without thinking,“Oh that’s very nice of Cory, but I don’t think his wife will appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of stunned silence before all the guys and Lindsey exploded with laughter. PK clapped me on the shoulder, “She’s in the mix now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the radio spots over, I somehow ended up with PK and Lindsey’s phone numbers and we all walked out of the studio together. I looked like a very chubby Oompa Loompa next to PK and Lindsey. “You and the kid should come over for dinner tonight,” PK stated it as a fact, not a question. It was subtle but I caught the elbow Lindsey gave him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci, is going to be super busy with this event. Maybe we should wait until after it’s over.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What they gotta eat, so why not?” This time the elbow was not subtle at all and I got the distinct feeling PK was being obtuse about something or Lindsey Vonn really hated me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were some angry whispers but I only caught a word or two before PK turned to me, “Apparently, this will be less awkward after the event, but I don’t understand why. My girlfriend is however, very wise so I’m going to trust her on this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave a small laugh, “It’s fine. Lindsey is right, I’m going to be working a lot and I honestly have no idea what Mac’s schedule is actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We separated outside the studio and I headed back to the office. The radio bits had taken most of the day and I wanted to answer some emails before going home. I also had no idea where my dog was. I texted Jen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did you take Deke back to the office or?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: Mac took him home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What do you mean Mac took him home?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seester2: I ran into Mac at your office and he said he would take Deke home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Um… that was fucking weird. Why was Mac at my office? And why would Jen just give him my dog? I had told her a little bit about what happened but not that anything was remotely back to normal. I sent a text to Mac.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey do you have Deke? My sister said she saw you at my office and you took him home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer right away and that gave me time to look at that selfie he sent earlier. This one WAS from today. He was lean and cut and his hair was hanging limply in his eyes. There was a video too. He was pushing a weighted sled and it was in slow motion. I wasn’t Catholic but I crossed myself anyway. I knew Mac was big, I knew he was powerful, but watching his muscles bunch and expel kinetic energy in slow motion was pure art. I watched it three more times and had a very intimate understanding of how he could pick my fat ass up and toss me around like a rag doll. Holy shit. I saved the video and the photo to my phone, for later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac texted back as I was getting in the elevator at work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blackwood: I have Deke. Just stop by when you get home from work.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was it. No explanation, nada. What the heck was going on with this boy?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uhh. Ok I have some questions. 1) Why did you lie to me earlier today about working out? 2) Why were you at my office? How did you even know where my office is?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac had read receipts on and I saw the little text go from “delivered” to “read.” AND THEN HE DIDN’T ANSWER. What the absolute hell? I was cranky when I got up to my office and a few of the emails I sent were probably more curt than intended. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was well after 7 when I finally closed my laptop and left the building. I was starting to doubt Mac was really the guy he appeared to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was still peeved when I raised my hand to knock on Mac’s door and he opened it. His hair was wet from a shower and he was wearing absolutely nothing except for some black boxer briefs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you always do that?” My voice came out more irritated than I intended.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Open the door before I knock?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged his big shoulders and grabbed my hand pulling me into his condo, “I don’t know I just get this overwhelming urge to open the door. It’s probably Granny Lucille.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My dog was on his leather couch again, upside down and snoring. “I see Deke made himself at home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac used my hand to drag me into his mostly naked body and his free hand cupped the back of my neck with his thumb under my chin. He tilted my head up and pressed a kiss to my lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smelled like whatever Old Spice body wash he used and he tasted like home. It was almost too easy to forget I was pissed at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost. I broke the kiss and stepped back from him. “If you think you can answer the door in your underwear and kiss me and I’m not gonna be pissed at you anymore you’re only 50% correct.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac rubbed the back of his neck, “I um I ya know, I got dinner too.” Ohh an ‘um’ and ‘ya know,’ I had this boy on the ropes and he was nervous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First of all, You’re lying to me about things and I don’t like it. Second of all, you left me on READ Mac. READ.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held out his hands like he was trying to stave off an attack from an angry lioness. Which was only partially true. I was more angry house cat than lion, but I could get there. “Ok. That’s fair. Can you please trust that I’m trying to do something really special for you and I need you to trust me and stop trying to catch me in a lie!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not TRYING to catch you Blackwood, you’re really bad at lying!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ISN’T THAT A GOOD THING?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ok. He had a point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YES!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you yelling at me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m scared and the last time I trusted you, you ripped out my heart and stomped on it!’ I felt the tears welling in my eyes and I held them in willing them not to spill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac looked absolutely wrecked and he pulled me into his body and wrapped his arms so tight around me it was hard to breathe. His voice was muffled in my hair, “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I was an absolute idiot. I was trying to be noble and do the right thing and I didn’t understand that it was the weak stupid thing and I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. But you have to give me a little trust to let me prove that I deserve it ok?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tears hadn’t fallen, but I took a shuddering breath into his chest. “It’s just hard. Ok? It’s hard because you sent me that pic this morning when you weren’t working out and I just… Couldn’t stop seeing you with that girl at the brewery. I knew it was dumb and stupid and it was an invasive thought, but you literally left me crying in my kitchen because people on Instagram said shitty things about me and the next time I see you with someone who is probably an Instagram model or influencer or whatever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac put his hand on my shoulders and put some distance between us so he could see my face, “I told you she was nothing and I don’t even remember her name. Is this going to be a thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pushed his hands off of my shoulders, “YES It’s going to be a thing. Not because I think you slept with her or would ever sleep with her or anyone like her but because YOU couldn’t handle the mean things people said about me and then you were with someone those people would have approved of. Do you see that as the issue?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rubbed a hand over his face, “I’m trying to, I swear Luce, I’m trying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac, as long as you believe in me 100% it’s not going to be an issue, but you can’t give me a reason to doubt that. You can’t or I will be the most insecure bitch ever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was suddenly exhausted and I collapsed into a heap on the couch. I pulled out my phone and opened up my little folder of hate. In it was a screenshot of every single nasty message or comment someone sent on Instagram before I deleted them. “I read them all Mac. Every comment, every message, I read them and I keep them.” I held the phone out to him, “Only take this if you can handle it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did the dude thing where he just stepped over the back of the couch and plopped down next to me and went to take the phone from my hand. I held it back, “You have to handle it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer, just nodded and took the phone. I watched his face the first few he read, but his expressions were too painful and I leaned back and rested my head on the cushions. It seemed to take Mac forever to flick through the album, but there were a lot of screenshots. Finally, he put my phone face down on the coffee table.  He didn’t say anything but he reached for me and pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked, “When did those start?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm the first time you tagged me in one of your Insta stories.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you didn’t say anything? Like those were horrible Luce. Some of those I almost want to turn into the police.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged, “Girls are really mean and I love my mom but she was always saying stuff like ‘Luci do you really need to eat that? Why don’t you have celery instead?’ or ‘Those pants aren’t very flattering dear, try a larger size.’ Body issues for women literally bombard us from the minute they put little pink hats on us at the hospital.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So why keep them? Why read them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because every woman has that little voice inside her that whispers </span>
  <em>
    <span>they’re right</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sometimes it’s a little hushed whisper sometimes it’s a booming yell, but it’s always there. And I guess there was a small part of me that thought they were right. That you would realize I’m an ugly fatty and leave me for someone more appropriate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And then I left you and then you saw me with that girl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… I’m a fucking idiot and I honestly don’t know how many times I need to say I’m sorry, but I’m going to say it every day forever. I don’t really want to tell you everything. But I’m doing something with Jen. She’s helping me with something for you and that’s where I was this morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that why she needed Deke this morning?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wrapped my arms around Mac’s middle and laid my head on his bare shoulder. “Thank you for telling me and I’m sorry I kinda ruined it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed my hair, “You didn’t ruin anything babe. If I wasn’t the world’s biggest idiot, would any of that bothered you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged, “Not really.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pulled back and tried to look at my face but we were too close, “Seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, none of those things are half as bad as the invasive thoughts I think about myself every day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean they’re invasive, but literally every woman on the planet has them. Some people are just better at yelling back at the void. And I’m pretty good at it, also I have Granny Lucille. She yells at the voice louder than I ever could.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pressed his face into my hair again, “Girls are crazy fierce, damn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A laugh disguised as a more forceful exhale escaped and for a moment I just enjoyed sitting in Mac’s lap cuddling against his naked torso with my head on his shoulder. The moment was ruined when my stomach let out a huge gurgle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac laid his head back against the couch and sighed, “When was the last time you ate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you have to think about it, it was too long ago Luci.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think I had a bagel at work? But that might have been yesterday morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For fucks sake.” He tilted my head up and captured my lips with his for a brief kiss, “You are the strongest, most resilient, smartest person I know, but you are a hot fucking mess baby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed, “I know. You said you got dinner. What did you get?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Italian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ooh You know pasta is the way to a girl’s heart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then you’re in luck because I got three different kinds with garlic bread.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My stomach grumbled again and the noise that came out of my mouth may have been pornagraphic. “Yeeesss... that sounds amazing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac kissed me again but this time his tongue licked his way into my mouth and the kiss was wet and long. It felt like he was trying to pour every single emotion he had into me. He broke off the kiss when my stomach protested again, “We can have dinner, but I’m eating you for dessert.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shiver ran down my entire body, “We have to wait at least a half hour though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s swimming, not sex Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I’ve had sex with you and it was a lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Mac stood up with me still in his arms and set me on me feet, “Are you going to fall asleep 2 minutes into Queer Eye again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to protest, but realized I honestly did not remember a single episode from last night. “I haven’t been sleeping well and you were comfortable. How did I get into your bed? I don’t remember going there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I watched a couple episodes while you drooled on my chest and then I picked you up and tucked you into bed and took Deke for a walk.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pulled a pile of take out boxes from the fridge and grabbed two plates while I opened the drawer I would have put silverware in and like magic, there it was.  “I drooled on you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You drooled less than Deke?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not comforting Blackwood.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The takeout containers got tossed onto the counter and Mac grabbed by the hips and spun me around, “I’d let you fall asleep and drool on me every night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes but let him kiss me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An hour later I was full of pesto linguine and garlic bread and I had Mac pause the Queer Eye episodes I was making him rewatch to run to my apartment to brush my teeth and change into more comfortable clothes. He took that opportunity to take Deke outside. He was already back and back down to his underwear when I let myself back into his place. “That was fast.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac gestured to Deke who was upside down on what had become his side of the couch. “His royal highness did his business in record time. I guess this is premium nap time and he needed to get back to it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Between the two of them stretched out on the couch there was once again, nowhere for me to sit. “You’re going to have to get a bigger couch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A long arm snagged me around the waist and suddenly I was lying on top of Mac like I had been the night before. I propped my chin on his chest, “You like this don’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer, but hit play on the remote with a self-satisfied grunt. I sighed and pressed my ear to his chest. I traced the dips and valleys on Mac’s stomach with a finger and it wasn’t long until on of his large hands snuck down the back of my pj shorts and he palmed a globe of my ass. As he kneaded the ample flesh of my butt cheek, I felt his dick start to grow against my stomach. “Hey Mac?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hit pause before looking up at me, “mmm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip and gave him a coy look that was only semi on purpose, “I think it’s been half an hour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words had barely left my mouth when There was a brief sensation of being over Mac’s shoulder and then I was flying through the air and I landed on Mac’s big king bed which was across the living room and down the freaking hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HOW? HOW DO YOU MOVE THAT FAST?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac looked at me like I was dumb, “Goalie. Duh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled the tank top over my head before pushing me back against the pillows and stripping the shorts and panties down my legs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Long fingers wrapped around my thighs and Mac kneeled by the edge of the bed and jerked me toward his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“MAC.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His tone was irritated, “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is why we had to wait half an hour.” I gave him my best cheeky grin</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His response was a growl and he dove into my pussy like a starving man. His tongue found its way through my pussy lips and he gave it a long lick. My back bowed off the bed and he slid a strong arm over my hips to hold me in place. “I haven’t….” my words were breathy as I tried to take in air while he assaulted my pussy with his tongue, “I haven’t… not since.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t reply, but I felt his lips stretch into a smile. He flicked my clit with his tongue and I swear I levitated off the bed. “Oh god, Mac!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two of his fingers slid up and down my labia gathering lubrication before he started to press them inside me. It was a stretch but everytime it bordered on painful, Mac would back off. Slowly he fucked his fingers into me while his tongue played with my clit. When his last knuckles were pressed against my entrance, he curled his long fingers inside me and pulled on my clit with his teeth. My orgasm hit me without warning. “FUCCCCKKKK. FUUUCK! MAC! OH MY GOD.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac kept on the onslaught of stimulation. While I was convulsing on his fingers, he slipped a third one in which sent me into a second orgasm on the heels of the first. The strong arm over my pelvis pinned me to the bed and I tangled my fingers into his hair. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to hold him in place or push him away. When my orgasm was reduced to a feeble flutter of my pussy walls, Mac gave my clit a final lick and then just sat there and watched his fingers work in and out of me, playing with my cum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was satisfied I could take him he grabbed a gold foil packet from the nightstand and shucked his underwear. I wondered if there would ever be a time when his beautiful body didn’t take my breath away. I bit my lip and watched him roll the condom on. When he was done he just looked at me, taking in the flush on my body from back to back orgasms and I swear he got harder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are always beautiful Luce, but you look the best when I’ve just made you cum all over my face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He climbed onto the bed and flipped me over, using my hips to pull me to my knees. Oh fuck. He was going to kill me in this position. “Look in the mirror Luci.” I lifted my head and sure enough there was a large mirror on his closet door that we were facing. I watched him nudge my thighs apart and settle on his knees behind me. He gripped his cock and slid the head between my pussy lips, getting it wet. When he found my entrance he tapped the head against it. I didn’t break eye contact with him in the mirror but I did bite my lip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pressed his hips forward and I felt him start to split me open. Oh god. This position made him feel ever bigger than he was and I couldn’t help but gasp, “Oh fuck Mac.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face was completely intense and like before, that sweet Canadian neighbor boy was gone. This was just a huge athletic man and wanted to fuck me into oblivion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked down to see his cock disappearing inside me and his hands ran up the outside of my thighs until he gripped my hips and pulled me back while he pressed forward. He did that three times until I felt his hips pressed against my ass and I was completely full of cock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you are so big.” I felt so full and it bordered on uncomfortable, but I wanted more. I rolled my hips back and tried to press him deeper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands just stroked my back, my ass, my thighs, anywhere he could reach he touched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I started getting impatient, “Mac. Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt him twitch inside me. “Mac.” I rocked my hips against him again and finally his fingers gripped me and he looked up at the mirror again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept eye contact as he pulled out of me excruciatingly slow, pausing when just the head rested inside me, and suddenly he punched his hips forward. I opened my mouth and no sound came out. He did it again, the slow pull out and the fast hard fuck. He watched my expression the entire time. Each time the head of his cock drug against my g spot and I don’t know if he fucked me this way for 30 seconds or 3 hour hours, it felt so damn good and my pussy pulsed around him. I was teetering on the edge of cumming and he kept me that way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac. Oh my god Mac, more. I need more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was his turn to bite his lip, “I love a greedy girl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hips snapped forward, harder, faster, his fingers digging into me, and I felt his balls slap against my clit. “Eyes on the mirror Luce, I want to watch you cum on my cock.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If I thought he was fucking me before it was nothing compared to the intensity now. God he fucked me so hard I swear I saw stars in that mirror. His face was an impassive expression of concentration and the only sounds in the room was a keening wail that was coming out of my mouth and the sound of our bodies slapping together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to cum Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t even give him a smart ass answer back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned forward and tangled his hand in my hair and jerked me back against his body by it. His hips set a furious pace and his other hand palmed my breast. When he pinched one of my nipples, I convulsed and came so hard my vision blurred. “Fuck Mac!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Letting go of my hair, he slid his other hand to my breast and pinched both nipples and I came AGAIN even HARDER. My pussy clamped down on his cock and Mac started to falter, his thrusts getting sloppy. “Oh god Mac, I want to feel you cum.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” He buried his head in my neck and his entire body jerked behind me. He bit down on my shoulder while I felt his dick twitch inside of me as he came. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We stayed on our knees, Mac’s arms literally the only thing keeping me upright.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Other than the sounds of our panting breaths it was silent, “Hey Mac?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pushed the hair away from my neck and pressed kisses along it, “yeah babe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have any bones left.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt him soften enough to slip out of me and then I felt a grin stretch the lips that were pressed to my neck, “obviously I don’t either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laid me down on the bed before he tottered to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He brought me a warm washcloth and took great care in wiping me up before he tossed it into the hamper in the corner of the room and laid down next to me. He leaned against the headboard and pulled my boneless body up to rest against his chest and he pressed a kiss into my hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sleep was chasing me but there was something important I needed to ask Mac. “Hey Mac?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pressed against his chest I felt his answer more than I heard it, “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you come with me to the event on Saturday? Not like as a player but… you know to support me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac wrapped his arms around me and scooted into a more supine position, “I had already planned on it, honestly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to like... do anything, you’re not obligated by contract or anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will be there, I will smile, I will sign autographs, I’ll be a dunking tank if you need me too. I will do anything Luci. I will pick up all the dogs’ poo if you need me to be that guy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave a little satisfied hum, “that’s why I…” I drifted off into dreamland which is why I didn’t feel Mac press another kiss to my head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Luce.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Finale</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the week seemed to fly by. Whatever project Mac was working on for me seemed to keep him as busy as the Greyhound Project was keeping me. If I got home and his car was in his spot, I’d make my way upstairs and fall into his bed with him. If he got home after I did, he’d do the same but we’d make do in my tiny bed, though I would hear Mac grumbling about how his bed was bigger, and he had a point. My bed was the perfect size for one person… and a greyhound. It did not fit one GIANT man, a whale, AND a greyhound very well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I could tell Mac wanted to bring up the topic of keys and I knew where his brain was going. My condo was where my stuff stayed, but his place was where we essentially lived. But I wasn’t ready. I was still holding part of me back and I didn’t know why. Well, I did know why; it was stupid soon and I was afraid he was going to rip my heart out again and I didn’t think I could survive that a second time. All things considered, he was the sweetest man.  He was funny, he cuddled on the couch and watched Queer Eye with me, he walked Deke when I inevitably fell asleep watching Queer Eye, he carried me to bed, he bought me flowers every week so Granny’s crystal vase would never be empty and since we were staying at his place more often than not the vase was now on his dining table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though he was being incredibly sweet, treating me like the most special thing in the world, in reality, I went from being completely broken hearted to basically living with him all for the cost of some sushi, daisies, and a well timed accident orchestrated by Granny Lucille. There was a bandaid on my heart in the shape of Mac Blackwood, but only he could repair it completely and I didn’t know how to express HOW he could do that. I wanted reparations. I wanted him to know how badly he had broken me. I wanted to know he suffered too. I wanted him to have never broken my heart, but since that wasn’t possible because time travel isn’t a real thing, I wanted him to fix everything but I didn’t know how. So I just didn’t say anything. If this was the best that I could get, then it was better than crying on my kitchen floor alone, but it wasn’t like it was before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The week seemed to fly by and finally it was the day of my big event and I was running around my apartment trying to find my magic jeans. You know the ones, the magic ones that somehow make you look 2 sizes smaller than you actually are. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was frantically digging through my dirty laundry in my bra and panties when Mac came in, “Babe, I got…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood in the doorway of the bathroom and when I looked up from where I was kneeling on the floor of my closet his eyes were dark and his nostrils flared. He swallowed and his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Is that… Is that new?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a second I forgot what I was wearing and I looked down, “Oh… shit. Yeah. Fenty X Savage had a sale.” It was lacy push up bra with matching cheeky panties and they were Devil’s red. “It was supposed to be a surprise for later, but I CAN’T FIND MY JEANS. Did I leave any at your place?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac turned around, “You know this wouldn’t be a problem if all your stuff was over at my place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I started throwing all the dirty laundry back into the hamper. “Why are you turned around and it’s too soon, I’m not moving in with you I just BOUGHT this place. I can’t afford rent and half of whatever you pay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First of all, If I look at you again and you’re still not wearing clothes we are going to be late because I will fuck you in front of that mirror. Second of all, I don’t have a mortgage I just bought the place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My boy had a thing for fucking me infront of mirrors and I was completely ok with it and I found myself giving it half a second of thought before an alarm went off on my phone. “SHIT I HAVE TO LEAVE IN 30 MINUTES.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god for the love of all things holy, Luci, please put on clothes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I CAN’T FIND MY JEANS MACKENZIE AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT SHIRT TO WEAR.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh right… “ Mac held a little bag behind his back, “I um.. I, ya know, it… I um. This is for you and if you wore it that would be awesome.” He stuttered the first part of the sentence all to hell and then finished it in a rush. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took it from his fingers, “Are you going to watch me open it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have clothes on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to be late?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thennn no. No I am not because my dick is hard enough to cut glass right now and my willpower is only so strong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bag had the Devils logo on the side and was filled with red tissue paper. A T- shirt was rolled at the bottom. When I shook it out it had the team logo on the front and Mac’s name and number on the back. “You got me a shirsey with your name and number?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac didn’t answer but I saw his head nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And it would mean a lot to you if I wore this today?” Again his head nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shirt looked a little small, but I had lost weight in what I referred to as my “heartbreak diet” so I pulled it on anyway, it was snug across my breasts and was a bit tighter than I tended to like my T-shirts, but honestly, I looked pretty hot in it. “Ok… well what do you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac turned around and I watched in real time as my sweet Canadian country boy disappeared into the feral man that fucked me senseless, “For the love of all things holy, why aren’t you wearing pants? You’re wearing that lingerie under a shirt with my name on it and you want us to be on time?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the closet and bent me over the bathroom counter. “MAC I still have to do my hair!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wear a ball cap.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed my legs apart with one of his thighs and I felt his fingers push the material of my panties to the side and slide up and down my slit. I was wet, but just barely. Mac rubbed my clit with a calloused finger while he undid his jeans with his other hand, pushing them down and pulled his cock out. It was indeed hard enough to cut glass. God, it was so hot watching him palm his cock with his big hand. He had the hugest hands and it made his monster dick almost look normal. I loved watching him stroke it and he knew that. Suddenly, I was a lot wetter than I had been a minute ago and Mac sunk two fingers into me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It caught me by surprise and I lifted to my toes “Ahhhh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Damn bastard looked smug as hell in the mirror. I was starting to really dig his mirror kink because I loved watching his expressions as he watched me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pulled a gold foil packet out of his wallet and the fingers inside me started to make an obscenely wet squelching noise as I watched him roll it on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The head of his cock replaced the long digits and as he pressed his length inside me I moaned and he slipped his wet fingers into my mouth. I sucked them clean. Mac was ridiculously good and making me ride that thin line between pain and pleasure and when he slid the huge dick inside me with one long slow thrust, I couldn’t help but arch my back and raise up on my toes again, “God, Mac.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I felt his stomach press against my ass he stopped. He wrapped his hand around my throat and pulled me up against his chest. “We are going to talk about birth control and testing this weekend, because if you are going to be hanging out with a bunch of hockey players, I want my cum dripping out of that cunt when you talk to them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Fuck, Mac.” I felt my pussy clench down on him at the thought and he grinned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like that idea don’t you?” Mac kept hold of my throat and he squeezed gently while he pulled out and then slammed back into me. Starting that slow hard fuck that always set me on fire. “You like the idea of talking to my teammates while my cum drips out of every single hole?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My nails tried to dig into the granite countertop as he fucked me hard, each thrust driving my pelvis into the edge and I knew I was going to have a big ass bruise across my hips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God, Mac. Yes! Yes I want to be filled with your cum.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let out a noise that rivaled some sort of Alaskan Bear and started fucking me hard and fast, the grip on my throat getting tighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My voice was just a harsh moan, “God Mac, I want to feel you cum.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit, Luce. You can’t…” His thrusts faltered and got sloppy and he bit my shoulder hard and I felt his cock jerk inside me as he started to cum. Watching him was pure ecstasy and it set off my own orgasm. My pussy walls pulsed around his cock and I would have convulsed into a ball if he wasn’t holding me up by my throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac let me go and braced himself with his hands cripping the edge of the counter on either side of me. He started pressing kisses across my shoulders. “Fuck babe, you are so goddamn perfect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wanted to drag him back to bed, fuck him three more times and then pass out from too many orgasms but my 15 minute alarm went off. “FFFUUCKK. Mac we have to leave in 15 minutes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac was always ridiculous about aftercare and his hands were tracing the number on my back. “Would it be weird if I got you like 5 more of these and you wore them every day?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“1. Yeah it’s weird. 2. We need to get going and you are still INSIDE me, Blackwood. 3. I need to find my JEANS.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt him slip out of me, even soft he was bigger than most guys. He disposed of the condom in the trash and tucked himself back into his jeans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was still gripping the counter for all I was worth, “Luce, don’t you have to get ready?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think my legs work.” I frowned at the satisfied smirk on Mac’s face. “Can you help me find my jeans? They’re the ones with the things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac grabbed a pair off of an upper shelf in my closet, “What about these?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No those will be too small.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac shook them out and held them up to me, “Umm they look fine. Were they too tight before the month we don’t talk about or...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I grabbed them and started tugging them on to prove my point, when you have fat rolls, not all jeans are the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s self satisfied smirk only got more smug when the jeans buttoned effortlessly. “Well… fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mac put his hands on my shoulders and spun me around, “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His big hands palmed my ass, “Checking to see what the back looks like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re wearing my name, those jeans, that red lacy number underneath and you’re probably still dripping wet, I’m going to be fighting a hard on all day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Were you this horny all the time when I met you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… I jacked it while thinking of you at least 3 times a day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Really?” I started throwing random makeup products on the counter and started going for a “natural” look which took like 10 products.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I started concentrating on what was going on my face and I didn’t notice the comfortable silence as Mac just watched me go through my routine.  When I was done, I caught his glance in the mirror and the open look of love and adoration on his face made that little part of me I was holding hostage peek out. It was so open, so genuine, and vulnerable I didn’t know what to do it with it. He certainly didn’t have the same reservations I did and his face as he watched me made that abundantly clear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As my final alarm sounded, I put a ball cap on my head, pulled my hair through and made a purposely messy bun at the back. “Ok Blackwood, how do I look?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pushed off the doorway where he was doing to stupid sexy man lean and grabbed my keys, purse, and Deke’s leash. “Almost as good as you’ll look when I make you Mrs. Blackwood. Deke come on!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My jaw dropped, did he just? And like so nonchalantly? I wanted to call him on it but Deke trotted by and he was wearing a shirsey that matched mine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christ Mac, you might as well just pee on both of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac held the door open for me, “Honestly, if I thought it would make Woody stay 500 feet away from you at all times, I probably would.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes, “I’m not leaving you for Miles Wood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why you wouldn’t he’s probably less of an idiot than I am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For once the elevator, was already on our floor and we got in and waited 500 years for it to make its way down the building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s probably a lot less of an idiot than you, but his dick is probably small, and you’ve ruined me for all other men.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac choked on his own spit and reached for me dragging me into his body. “Christ Luce, now all season I’m going to have to resist the urge to look at Woody’s dick and make comparisons.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wrapped my arms around his big body, “Sounds like a personal problem. I won’t be sharing it though because I’ve seen your dick and that’s the only one I want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac kissed the top of my head, “You sure know how to make a guy feel good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave an approving hum, “in more ways than one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luci,” it may have been just a growl but it sure SOUNDED like my name. Mac took one of my hands and pressed it to the growing bulge under his zipper. “If you think I won’t make you get on your knees right in this elevator, you are mistaken.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave a mock indignant scoff, “make me? Who says it wouldn’t be voluntary. You know choking on your cock is like my second favorite thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus fucking Christ, Luci, we are about to be in front of a bazillion fans and half my teammates. As much as I love the sex kitten part of you… I need you to not because you look like you do and I know what’s under those clothes and I’m hanging on by a thread babe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed and pressed my face to his chest, giving his now, very hard dick, one last rub, “Fine I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac whistled and tapped his shoulder and Deke jumped up and Mac snapped a selfie of us.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to post that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe after the event, yeah? When I have time and I can delete all the bad comments? Which you are not reading or saving to your phone, because that’s weird Luci.” The elevator finally fucking arrived and we made our way out to the garage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I frowned, “It’s not weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s weird and we are deleting all of them later. The whole lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Except the ones that maybe should go to the police. We’re keeping those ones as evidence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop arguing with me I’m right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you fucking chirping me right now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bitch, I might be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac spun me around and pressed me against the side of his SUV with his hand around my throat. He pushed a thigh between my legs and it pressed hard against my mound. When I opened my mouth to gasp Mac kissed me, but that’s being generous, plundered was more like it. He plundered my mouth. When he was satisfied, half of my lipstick was on his face and I reached up to wipe it away with my thumb. “Damnit MacKenzie. While I think that shade is lovely on you, I preferred it on my face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac didn’t answer but started muttering and looking up at the ceiling like he was praying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you praying for something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.. I’m asking Granny Lucille advice on how to fucking control you because you are going to be the death of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pffft. Please. Compared to Granny L I’m a saint.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac sighed and beeped the locks on the SUV and held my door open, “That’s what she said.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? Granny L talks to you now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean if the maniacal laughter was an answer, then yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh. That does sound like her.” I climbed into the SUV and Mac shut the door then situated Deke in the back with his little seatbelt harness. I twisted in my seat, “Weird, that I’m so exasperating and you still want to marry me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t explain it honestly. My girlfriend is haunted by her grandmother, is a genuine pain in my ass, and I still want to make her mine forever. Wonders never cease.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Deke was all squared away Mac circled the car and got in. “Granny has been talking to you then… she always used that expression. Still does in fact. Man my siblings are going to be so jealous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac’s hands were tight on the wheel as he backed out of his parking spot, “So I get to meet your whole family today eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I loved how he went all Canadian when he got nervous, “Yeah. Jen was going to be there to take photos obviously and Jill and Josh bought Mom and Dad tickets because they’re the moneybag twins.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you nervous?” I reached across the console and pulled one of his hands off the wheel to hold it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That your big brother who is a body builder is going to punch me right in the face? A little.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you were anyone other than Mac Blackwood, he probably would. Like if I was dating an Islander or a Ranger, no contest that dude is flat on his back, but he and Dad are too dedicated to the Devils and your save percentage is too high. They won’t risk it. Not even for my honor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac pulled up to the brewery which had rented the park behind the building and there were big white tents everywhere. ‘Where do I park?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Players get valet parking, and I mean technically you’re a player so just pull right up front.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I flipped down the little mirror on the visor and reapplied my lipstick while we waited for a teenager in a red vest to take Mac’s keys. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I bounced my leg, “I’m going to go in there and see if any fires need to be put out. Can you take Deke and come find me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac squeezed my hand, “You’re gonna be amazing you know that right? This is going to raise so much money.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I kissed the back of his hand and left a lipstick print on it, “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Halfway through this planning  process Brian and Charlie had decided to hire a party planner to come in on the day of the event. I had been working with her the past few days and her role was simply to orchestrate everything so I didn’t have to run around like a chicken with my head cut off. My bosses were well meaning idiots, because I was going to do that anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I found Tammy inspecting trays of food that was being prepared in the kitchen. She was tall and dressed in a black power suit and she was talking into a headset. “There needs to be a merchandise table near the entrance. I don’t care what you have to do, do it. If we don’t have enough tables improvise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Tammy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Luci. Brian and Charlie already instructed me not to give you a headset.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I frowned, “Are you going to let the overlords treat me like this Tammy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes because I followed you around for three days, I still have blisters on my feet and I *thought* I was a workaholic. So please go enjoy the event you planned. Schmooze. Hook up with a hockey player.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I choked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tammy looked past my shoulder, “Ohh like that one.” She gave my shoulder a playful nudge, and called out, “Players are meeting on the other side of the building!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac walked up behind me with Deke in tow and draped his arm around my shoulders and I bit my lip and gave Tammy a shrug, “Um actually, this one is with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Tammy gave Mac the once over, “Nice choice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac added, “She’s already hooked up with a hockey player. 3 times just this morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I elbowed him in the ribs as hard as I could, which honestly, compared to an Ovechkin slapshot probably felt like a tickle. “How in the world is that appropriate Blackwood?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blackwood!?” Tammy looked surprised and then things seemed to click together in her brain because she made a face of understanding.  “Ahh… Charlie wanted to see you, let me page him.” Tammy held her hand up to her ear and listened to whoever was talking in her ear. “Luci there’s a problem with the merchandise and the greyhounds have arrived. Can you go handle that and talk to them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um yeah.” I took Deke’s leash from Mac and gave him a side eye, why on earth would Charlie want to talk to Mac? How did they even know each other?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We had 15 greyhounds that were available to be adopted at the event and the players were supposed to walk around with one of them and there were adoption forms to be filled out by prospective adopters. I sent the handlers around to the back of the building where there was a quiet area for the dogs to be off leash and where the players were gathering to receive their charges.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything seemed to be running smoothly and I actually felt a little superfluous. Which was the precise moment I saw Braden Holtby, Carter Hutton, Matt Murray, and Robin Lehner arrive and I was *very* confused since this was supposed to a *Devils* fundraiser. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was distracted by an intern that was struggling with a hand cart full of boxes. “Is this for the merchandise table?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She struggled to get the cart upright without spilling the boxes and for a moment it looked like she succeeded. The top one toppled to the ground for seemingly no reason and spilled its contents everywhere. </span>
  <b>Oh dear.</b>
  <span> Granny L, of course. I bent down to pick up a calendar… I didn’t have a calendar made? Whatever, maybe it was the Greyhound Rescue. I started to pick them up when I noticed a very familiar face on the cover? Mac and Deke? I recognized Jen’s photography style then as well. This… this is what his secret project was. Mac was on the cover, shirtless, and probably didn’t have to be touched up AT ALL he was always that gorgeous, and Deke was standing on his hind legs with his front paws on Mac’s shoulders and they were both looking at the camera. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was called “Goalies for Greyhounds.” I flipped it over and looked at the thumbnail images on the back. Cory Schneider, Keith Kinkaid, Pekka Rinne, Philip Grubauer, Anton Khudobin, Robin Lehner, Connor Hellebuyck, Carter Hutton, Matt Murray, Braden Holtby, Aaron Dell, and Mac was not only on the cover, but mostly naked in a santa hat and trying to untangle christmas lights with Deke on the back for December. I didn’t even know that Mac knew all these guys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a short blurb about the Greyhound Rescue and how 100% of the proceeds would go directly to the dogs etc.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever part of me I was keeping from Mac peeked out of her hidey-hole again. Mac did this for me? It wasn’t just a gift, it was something that was important to me. This wasn’t just flowers, or Princess Bride sushi, this wasn’t some meaningless piece of jewelry that would make me think of that horrible month every time I looked at it. He took that hurt and he put it into a project that would mean something. Getting this done must have cost a fortune and organizing this? Would have taken months normally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holy shit. Holy shit. That part of me I was keeping hidden from Mac kicked open the door of her cell. Holy shit, I was In Love with MacKenzie Blackwood. Like thoroughly, whole-heartedly, gooey romantic comedy IN LOVE with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I looked up from the calendar the intern had set the entire table up already. “Have I been standing here completely zoned out for a long time?”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was sitting behind the table with register tablet and all the boxes for the merch were hidden under the table cloths, “Like 10-15 minutes?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>THIS IS WHY MAC KNEW CHARLIE. I don’t know why that dawned on me at that very moment, but Mac would have needed help to pull off a project this big and slide it into my campaign without me noticing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you wearing a headset?”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give it to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not supposed…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I just held my hand out and I wasn’t sure what look was on my face but I got the headset. I put it on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Charlie, I’ve commandeered a headset.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GODDAMNIT LUCI.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you going to do, fire me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God no. I might have to work, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Mac, Charlie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He must have heard something in my voice because he immediately understood, “Oh no. You found it. Honestly, I’m amazed it took this long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where is Mac, Charlie.” I repeated and put a hand on my hip even though he couldn’t see it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Out in the tents with a bunch of other hockey players. Honestly, Luci is that why you are so weird about hockey? Because I’m rethinking my committed relationship.” Charlie’s voice drifted off like he wasn’t 100% paying attention anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of, is George coming tonight?” I started making my way through the brewery to the park where the tents were. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh No. He doesn’t like dogs. What kind of serial killer doesn’t like dogs?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Charlie you’ve been with George like a year how does that not come up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because unlike you I didn’t bring a god home from work.. I mean a dog. OH my god, which one is the really really handsome one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really good hair and looks like he belongs on the set of 90210?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YES. Oh my god.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miles Wood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to have to explain hockey to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another time, BUT Miles is who I wanted in the dunk tank. Women will give up their life savings trying to dunk him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah Women and me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just do it Charlie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would like to take this opportunity to point out that technically I am your boss.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Noted and ignored.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I rounded the corner and Mac was surrounded by some of his teammates and his fellow goalies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He caught sight of me and noticed the calendar in my hand. The guys looked a little shocked when he seemed to walk away from them mid sentence. I couldn’t help it, I broke into a run and when we were a few feet apart I took a flying leap at Mac and he caught me with a quiet “oof.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wrapped my legs around his waist and his palms found their way to my ass. The arm holding the calendar rested on his shoulder and I pressed my other hand on the side of his face. “You did this for me. I love you, you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was breathy and I felt some satisfaction knowing I could get that reaction out of him. “You almost said it last week.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. But you fell asleep. So you didn’t hear me say it back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> I couldn’t help it, I kissed him. When we broke apart I had questions, “How? Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well the why is obvious isn’t it? I’m groveling. This is me full on grovelling because I fucked up and I love you so much I needed you back Luce. I needed you. As for the how, PK and Lindsey helped me brainstorm and then I called in your sister, who called in Charlie, who called in the Greyhound group, and I called my agent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t even know you knew some of these guys.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t until this. I sent my agent to get in touch with their agents and I probably called 40 guys? And then I had to tell them WHY I was doing this and a lot of them were really confused that I fucked up my relationship and was therefore making a calendar for Greyhounds, but they were willing to do it for the dogs. Then we had to get them to fly out here. Jen did all the photo stuff and editing work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you put this together so fast Mac?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A lot of phone calls, a lot of favors promised, and they literally got delivered this morning. I hope they’re ok.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I unhooked my legs from around him and slid down his body, “It’s perfect, look.” We looked at the calendar together for a moment until someone cleared their throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mac slung his arm around my shoulders, “Come on and meet some of the guys.” He practically dragged me over to the group of intimidating goalies, “Guys this is Luci.” The way he said it was like he was presenting his most prized possession to these guys he looked up to. Like a child showing his dad his favorite toy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shook hands with all of them, pretty sure I was never washing my right hand ever again, until I got to Cory Schneider. “So I used to sleep in a shirsey of yours that I stole from my brother, but Mac says I’m not allowed to do that anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was complete silence for a few beats before all of them erupted into laughter. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jen come around the corner with Deke and snap a photo of that moment. I must have left Deke with the intern. Oops. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the event seemed to fly by in a blur like I was on a bullet train. My family arrived early to the event and my dad and Josh were in absolute heaven. Mac had actually stolen my Schneider shirsey, had Cory sign it and gave it back to Josh who wigged the fuck out. Meanwhile, Jen caught everything on camera, though she spent a lot of time near the dunk tank. True to form there was a line of ladies, and Charlie who were gleefully dumping $5 per toss into the jar to try and dunk Miles in the tank. I’m pretty sure he lost a bet with PK because he was wearing the smallest New Jersey Devils bikini I had ever seen and that just added to the hilarity. And while I’d never leave Mac for Miles, I was going to make Jen send me some of those photos of him dripping wet in that bikini. I’m sure there were a lot of those. Charlie had a disturbingly accurate arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie ended up tracking me down and made me give the headset back so I was forced to enjoy the event I planned. Mac didn’t leave my side for the rest of the evening except to sign autographs. A photo of Deke and I in our matching Blackwood shirseys may have made Mac’s instagram before the end of the event. There were several blue checkmarks next to some flattering comments at the very top of the comment thread and even the douchiest dudebros weren’t brave enough to comment anything negative. Nothing can stop a negative bitch though, what are you gonna do?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I had to give a speech which was awful, Mac ended up giving a speech to reveal the calendars and the goalies that stayed for the event who would be signing the calendars. I may have cried a little because it was incredibly sweet and heartfelt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was well past midnight when our little trio made it back to Mac’s apartment and I immediately face planted into the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so.” Mac picked me up and hauled me into the bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mac I’m so tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to anything but I have been thinking about you in that little red number all fucking day and I’m going to make you cum all over my face, I’m going to fuck you with my name and number on, and then I’m going to fuck you naked and you don’t have to do any work, but babe, I’m gonna do some dirty things to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, I wasn’t tired anymore.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>